To Die of Love is to Live By It
by Miss Pontmercy
Summary: Marius/Cosette vignettes from different parts of the story and their lives, ranging from childhood to death. Sadness, romance, fluff, sexuality, loss, family. Help as I try to impact the lack of M/C on this website. Some short, some long. Some K, some M.
1. The rue Plumet

**I used to read the little vignettes that Mongie wrote in "Two Hearts in Love." I decided for my next story I'd write little glimpses into Marius and Cosette's romance just like she did, but these would be my take. I'll do some from the musical and some from the book, whatever I feel like. I'll put the prompt in, too. This one is sort of long for a little snippet, but they will be all different lengths.**

**Title: The First Meeting  
Summary: The first time the two meet in the rue Plumet**

He couldn't believe he was really doing this. It was so frightening- he stepped through the bars of the gate once again, and held his breath. He stepped softly when he saw she was sitting on the bench- he hadn't ever been this close to her before. He could almost reach out and touch her- not that he would dare. His heart was pounding in his chest. The previous evening, he'd been fed up with just watching her from a distance. He needed to tell her how he felt, and that was why he left the letter beneath the stone. But now, with her so close... well, he'd never been more scared in his life. He did not want her to turn, not yet. He was perfectly content just standing behind her, where he was safe, where his feelings could not be hurt.

Should he say something to her?

Before he could make up his mind, she sensed his presence and turned around, standing up. He looked into her eyes for the first time in almost a year- they were the same. He thought they'd been imprinted in his mind, but obviously he was wrong. He had remembered the blue, and the way he seemed to be able to see straight into her soul. But he forgot the shadow of melancholy lingering there, which was still echoing in the deep sapphire color. He also forgot how far her soul seemed to stretch, like he could look into those eyes forever and always find something new. Like she was looking back at him the same way.

Only this time, there was a trace of fear in her eyes. He'd startled her! He hadn't meant to frighten her. But sneaking into her garden, well... he could see why it would be off-putting. But he didn't want her to be scared. He realized he was still staring at her, and he shook his head to gather his thoughts. Then he began talking.

Was it talking, or rambling? He couldn't even hear what he was saying! He had a speech planned of what to say, should he ever get the opportunity to talk to her. Only today, he babbled about, confessing his love far more passionately than he'd meant to, and over-complemented her, probably frightening her. Or maybe even annoying her, who knew? Maybe he'd imagined every look she'd given him- every understanding glance, every smile. Maybe they hadn't been meant for him. Maybe they were pitiful, as she noticed the state of his clothing.

_Oh! _How foolish he was!

She took a step back, and her face was clothed in shadow. He still was speaking, but his eyes could no longer stare into hers. The moonlight was reflecting on the curve of her neck, and the impression her collarbones made against the soft white cream that was her skin. Those shapes, the bones, her delicate neck, they were so graceful, and so poetic. The shape of her neck was too beautiful to look at- it almost hurt.

Suddenly he stopped his words, knowing he sounded like an idiot. She must think he was a creeping, spying man who stood outside her windows and looked in on her, and then couldn't even get words together when he did get the chance to talk to her!

She cried out weakly, and then started to fall. Without thinking, Marius reached out to catch her. He did not think about how she might not want him to touch her, or how, in catching her, he might have to put his hands places she didn't want. He did not think about how he had thought up to this point that touching this perfect creature would be a kind of blasphemy. He did not think about how improper it would be to lay his clumsy hands on her, or how offended she might be. He only thought that he should not let her fall.

She looked up at him again, meeting his eyes. This time, he saw even more there than he'd seen before. Before even one more word was said, she gave him such a smile that his thoughts and worries were wiped away. For a moment, absolute stillness. His mind was not racing and neither said a word. For the first time, he felt completeness.

**Thoughts? There will be plenty more soon!**


	2. Illness, Firsts, and Courfeyrac

**Title: An Ill Marius  
Summary: While Marius is sick, Cosette cares for him  
World: Musical**

It had been a week, and Marius had not woken up yet. Cosette disobeyed her father and snuck out of her bed at night, to keep watch over him as he slept fitfully. Her father claimed that she needed her rest, and yet she did not feel too guilty for disobeying him. Not this time, anyway.

She had no idea how late it was, but she continued to dab his forehead with a cool cloth. It was hot, burning under her hand and much too hot to be healthy. His cheeks were flushed, and he frequently moaned in pain whenever he shifted. The worst, though, was when he murmured out her name, usually calling for her despite his pain. She knew there was something about his thoughts of her that was associated with relief. He called for her, like she would end his pain. He always started softly, and then would grow in intensity until tears were falling from Cosette's eyes.

"I'm right here," she would try and soothe, but he never seemed to hear. He heard nothing, he was much too ill. Until he did hear, she would continue to pray. In the meantime, she smoothed his bedclothes and continued to try and keep him both cool enough and warm enough. That was why she did not sleep, for she could not leave him sick and unattended for very long.

But soon her eyelids grew heavy, and she could not resist from leaning back in the armchair she was sitting in. She curled her feet up and took the throw pillow and blanket from the foot of Marius' bed, thinking it would only be a minute, and then feel straight asleep.

**Title: The rue Plumet  
Summary: The first time Marius enters Cosette's garden, and kisses her  
World: Book**

It wasn't that he'd planned on kissing her. Not at all. But after they fell back onto the bench, their eyes met, and then their faces were drawn closer together. Right before their lips met, there was a kind of understanding in her eyes that he knew was reflected in his own, knowing what was coming.

Her lips were soft against his, and right after he felt them, he knew he should pull away. They shouldn't be doing this. But then she reached for his hands, and clasped them in her own. He couldn't pull away then, not just yet. He felt her kissing him back, felt the skin of her cheek, smelled something sweet that must be her perfume- or maybe was just naturally her, and then he knew he should pull away.

When he did, neither looked at each other. It was too embarrassing! The sat quietly for a time, their hands still entwined, their knees touching. Finally, she spoke.

"That's the first time I've ever kissed a boy," she whispered.

"Me too," he said, and then closed his eyes in shame, blushing. "That's... not what I meant. I mean- that's the first time I've ever kissed a woman. You're- not a man. I've never kissed a man. Or a woman. I've never kissed either... Of course! I mean, I've never-"

She was giggling by now, but it wasn't like when his friends laughed at him. She was making fun of his awkward blunders, and he did not feel younger or slower like he did with his friends. She accepted him, and did not demand his jokes be funnier or his comments wittier. She didn't accept him to be worldly wise, or romantically savvy, like his friends did. He relaxed inside, for he no longer felt judged.

**Title: Courfeyrac  
Summary: Courfeyrac tries to find out who Marius is with  
World: Book**

"Is her name... Isabelle?"

"_No!" _Marius exclaimed, shutting his book and standing up. "For the last time, I am not telling you! Her name is not Isabelle, nor is it Emmalie, or Adele, Mariette, Luisette, or Lorainne. Alright?"

"Ha!" Courfeyrac said, laughing and pointing. "So you _admit it!_ There is a 'she'!"

"Ah!" Marius cried, wanting to rip out his hair. "I'm not admitting anything."

"No, you are!" Courfeyrac said, positively glowing at his new victory. "By admitting what her name is _not, _you've admitted that there is, in fact, a name. And where else could you be, coming in at one in the morning? You never were one for a nightlife, my friend. And you're acting silly- it's the only way to describe it."

"I can't say I know what you mean," he said. Then, he stood up and showed himself out the door with a bag filled with some books under his arm. Maybe he'd go to a park bench and try and work _there,_away from his friend's curiosity.

It only took him half a block to realize Courfeyrac was following him.

"Courfeyrac!" he cried, turning around angrily. "If you don't leave me alone, I'll just-"

"You'll what?" he challenged, not able to keep his laughs to himself.

"Well... it is two in the afternoon, Courfeyrac. Even if I did have a... friend who I was going to see, it wouldn't be at two in the afternoon. So you can let your hopes down, because I'm simply going to do some work."

"I wouldn't say it was a friend you're seeing," Courfeyrac smirked. "I was thinking more of the... female variety. A grisette? A mistress?"

"_Don't call her that!"_ Marius exclaimed, furrowing his brow in real anger instead of just frustration. No one would insult Cosette- not even his best friend.

"Her!" Courfeyrac cried, elated. "Your perfect girl, she exists! I know several names of which she is _not_called, and she is far more respectable than a grisette or a mistress. Of course, she is perfect, is she not?"

"Courfeyrac," Marius grunted through gritted teeth. "Leave. Me. Alone."

"Alright, alright!" he said, raising his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "But, my friend... I _will _find out. Mark my words!"

* * *

**Thoughts? Which was your favorite?**

**More coming! Also, lemme know if there's any situations you'd like to see. I'd have fun taking suggestions.**


	3. Wondering, Seconds, and Awkwardness

**Title: Lost  
Summary: Valjean contemplates his decision to rescue Marius  
World: Book**

It had been two weeks since the barricades, and Jean Valjean was just recovering from the horrible experience. He was having claustrophobic nightmares due to his time spent wandering hopelessly through the bowels of Paris, and could see the bodies of the young men hanging about the barricade. But he was also recovering from knowing that his time with Cosette, exclusively, was ticking away with each second on the clock.

It was really already gone. Now, she spent her days in her room, praying, or working on lint for the young man. Tears fell from her eyes often, and she begged Valjean to go inquire on the boy's health each morning. Though he was unconscious and miles away in his grandfather's house, he still interrupted their daily life. Valjean wondered with part of his brain why he'd done it- he'd just completely ended any future happiness he could have with Cosette. She never would have known what had happened to the young man, and he could have happily gone to England with her. Now, he was faced with a terrible battle to look forward to: the future.

However, he knew that, should he go back in time, he would make the same decision. Taking Cosette to England with him and not telling her that this boy had contacted her would have been selfish. She would have believed he stopped loving her, abandoned her. It would break her heart. And f Valjean had given her the boy's letter of farewell but not gone to rescue him, she would still be broken hearted, for she would know he was dead. To expect her to be happy and follow him to England would be wrong.

And, looking at her now as she stared out the window, watching the people on the streets, he knew she loved this boy more than she loved him, Valjean. It was clear from her distress, from how faithfully and ardently she prayed and made bandages. Her heart belonged to him now. He'd already lost her, so losing her when the boy was healthy shouldn't be as hard.

But when Cosette kissed his forehead and retired to bed that night, Valjean knew it would be just as difficult to say goodbye to her. Even now, when she wasn't his anymore, he could still pretend. But the day she married that boy, she was lost forever.

**Title: The Second Meeting  
Summary: the second time Marius comes to the rue Plumet  
World: Book**

Cosette went out through the French doors and stepped into the garden, pulling her cloak around her. It was April, yes, but still rather cold at night.

Marius was coming.

The thought made her tremble- she had a boy to meet at night in her garden. She could not stop thinking about the evening before, when he'd come. He loved her. He said it, so it must be true. And of course, she loved him. They'd kissed, which she blushed about whenever it entered her mind. Her color was rather off, her stomach ached in a pleasant way, and she could not sleep the night before. Her father asked her what was wrong several times today, but of course she did not tell him.

And nothing was wrong- nothing at all! Everything was perfect!

]Marius had promised to come again tonight- he'd asked her if she wanted him to return, and of course she had said yes. But thinking about that, she felt nervous for the first time. Had he _promised _he would come, or said that _maybe _he would come? There was a difference, definitely. Was she going to wait here in the garden, and have him not come? Was she foolish?

He would come, wouldn't he?

She waited a minute on the bench that felt like a year, and then nervously stood up, wringing her hands. What would she say to him when he arrived- _if _he arrived? Suddenly she panicked, thinking of dreadfully slow moving conversation and embarrassment.

Suddenly she heard a creak, and the bar of the gate was being moved back. There he was, looking just as he had the night before. He removed his hat once he entered the garden, and her stomach leapt when he smiled warmly at her. He looked a tad surprised to see her waiting- maybe he'd been worrying as she had! Cosette hurried forward, stopping just when she was right in front of him.

"Hello," they both said at once, and he took her hands.

"You came," she whispered, and he kissed her fingers, causing her stomach to leap again.

"I promised I would," he answered simply, and then they sat on the bench. She felt his hands entwined in hers, his presence beside her, the felt his gaze on her face. She smiled contentedly- he had come, he'd kept his promise, he was glad to see her. All was well.

**Title: _Grandfather!  
_Summary: Monsieur Gillenormond complements Cosette rather fervently  
World: Book**

It was a calm afternoon at the Gillenormond household, a month before Marius and Cosette were set to marry. The two of them sat with Monsieur Gillenormond, and were filling out several legal forms that would be taken to the _mairie_ at the end of the week.

"What a beautiful girl," Monsieur Gillenormond said for what felt like the thousandth time. Cosette blushed- it was nice to be complemented, yes, but this was a bit excessive. Still, better for Marius' family to like her than not. "You're such a lucky man, Marius."

"Father," Marius said, a touch of warning in his voice. He didn't look up from his paperwork, though. He also was getting rather uncomfortable with the incessant complementing of Cosette- the man was in his nineties, for goodness' sake. It was rather awkward, especially when he did it in front of Monsieur Fauchelevent, which he had done already this morning.

"Oh, don't be silly, boy. She's just very lovely. Reminds me of a mistress I had once... Juliette, was her name? No... Giselle? No... But she was lovely- _very_ beautiful, quite like little Cosette here-"

"Grandfather," Marius said again, cringing. He never- _ever-_ wanted to discuss the subject of mistresses with his grandfather. The thought was thoroughly revolting, even when Cosette wasn't brought up.

"Oh, right," he said absently. "It's just so funny. And you're going to have her all to yourself, you lucky-"

"_Grandfather!"_ he exclaimed, trying not to look at Cosette, who was blushing and pretending she heard none of this.

"Yes yes yes. Sorry," the old man mumbled. "I'll just go upstairs and see if I have that old dress my Giselle used to wear... or maybe it was Gabrielle... I think it would look charming on Mademoiselle."

* * *

**Thoughts or suggestions?**

**Eponine Thenardier- I may write the meeting of the families, but I don't know too much of what to add to that scene. I will do a variation of it, though, and will do some more stuff like the snippets in this chapter, of the families opinions of their relationship.**


	4. Once Again

**Title: Once Again  
Summary: I'm taking M. Gillenormond's idea of having Cosette see Marius again as a surprise for him, while he was still sleeping  
World: Monsieur Gillenormond's and My Fantasy**

Cosette was enjoying having a late morning, and at eleven was still dressed in her peignoir, watering the plants that decorated the windowsill. Then, a knock sounded on the door. She listened when her father got up to answer it.

"Good morning, Monsieur," came a voice she didn't know. "I am here from Monsieur Gillenormond."

Cosette's heart skipped a beat, and she put the watering can down. She knew that, at this point in Marius' recovery, all news was going to be good. He had been out of danger for three weeks, and regaining strength. As far as she knew, nothing bad could happen. So, news from Monsieur Gillenormond could only be...

"He would like you and Mademoiselle Fauchelevent to stop by at your convenience today."

She didn't hear her father's reply, for she ran into her bedroom and was rifling through her wardrobe. Ordinarily, she would have spent time picking out her ensemble to make sure she looked nice- but today was an exception. It was all she could do to find the proper garments to wear.

When she emerged ten minutes later, properly dressed, her papa was moving entirely too slowly. After she finally dragged him out of his chair and into the fiacre, they were on their way, her heart pounding the entire time. She'd thought of things to say to Marius when she saw him again, but they all slipped her mind now. What would he say when he saw her? Maybe she should have dressed better. It had been a long time- four months without seeing him. Would he still love her?

When they reached the Gillenormond house- which she barely had time to notice was large and beautiful- they were escorted by a small man who introduced himself as Basque into a room off the entrance hall. A very old man was waiting for them there.

He greeted them, and she tried to be as polite as she could to the man who was Marius' grandfather, but really she could not concentrate. He was complementing her, and talking to her father, but she heard none of it. The fact was, Marius was the closest he'd been to her in months, and she wanted to see him.

"Mademoiselle," Monsieur Gillenormond began. "You see, my grandson is asleep. He is better, yes, but weak and he tires easily."

Her heart fell a bit- Marius was sleeping. She wouldn't be able to see him.

"Oh. Well then," she said, trying not to show how disappointed she was.

"Ah but that is the fun part. We are going to surprise him!"

Cosette broke into a huge grin- surprise Marius! Only... what if he didn't want to see her?

As they moved into the parlor, she heard Monsieur Gillenormond talking to her father- her name came up a lot, and also Marius', but again she was not concentrating. When they reached the parlor, a sickbed was set up. And inside of it...

_Marius._

She was feeling so many things at that moment- excitement for seeing him, love, sadness at seeing him look so vulnerable, asleep and pale, and embarrassed to show her love in front of her father and Monsieur Gillenormond. She took a step forward towards him, but then looked backwards at the older men, unsure.

"Go!" Monsieur Gillenormond said, encouraging her. "And wake him."

She didn't even bother to glance at her father before she went forward, perching on the end of the bed.

She tried to block her knowledge of the presence of all these other people, but caught some words that were very, very important:

"These children love each other. I see no other practical solution than marriage."

"I agree."

She knew the significance and benefits of those words, but she ignored them for the time being and turned to look at Marius. He was sleeping peacefully, his dark eyelashes against his cheeks. His hair had been shorn to clean the wounds on his skull, but was growing back now and was already a few centimeters long. She smiled softly, ignoring the tears that pricked her eyes as she watched him breathe gently in and out. She did not want to wake him when he looked so innocent and relaxed.

She put a hand on his, stroking her thumb against his palm. Then she gently put a hand on his forehead, then through his short hair that was as dark and thick as ever. Her murmured something, and she smiled. She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand, and his eyelids fluttered. Instantly she felt a stab of nerves and fear. She tried to overcome it, and put a smile on her face, taking his hand again as he opened his eyes.

He stared at her for a long moment, and she didn't even breathe. He looked at her like he wasn't surprised to see her at all.

"Cosette," he said very softly, and she smiled, nodding.

"Marius," she whispered, but no sound came out. He smiled, though, knowing what she'd mouthed.

Then his eyes widened as reality dawned more clearly.

"What-? How did you-?"

Before she could finish, he sat up and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. She let him for a moment, and then was about to tell him he should lay back down so he wouldn't hurt himself when he pulled away.

When he'd sat up, he could clearly see Cosette's intimidating and white-haired father in the room, looking seriously at him. He gulped, but the man said nothing. He laid back down, though, and focused his attention on Cosette.

"You're here," he said simply.

"I am." Then she remembered the things she had to say, and the words flowed from her lips, unstoppable. "Why would go you and fight that way? It was absolutely cruel of you, to go and try to hurt yourself! I've spent four months worrying after you, do you know that? I cannot even believe it's _you_ here, not after so long we've spent apart. But really, _why_ did you do that? _Why? _I suppose I will forgive you, if you promise never to hurt me that way again. And we've moved, just so you know. To the other side of Paris, in a different quarter. _Not_ to England, see? You had to reason to go and do that! There is no garden. Wait until I tell you what I _think_ I just heard your grandfather say! Oh- do you still love me? You are hurt, are you still in pain? It was wrong of you to sit up that way, you might have hurt yourself more, and then where would you be? Oh, I've missed you so much! It's been dreadful- boring and sad, and it's all your fault!"

"Angel!" He interrupted, seeming to marvel at her, unable to really think or form proper words. She was _here._ She wasn't in England, she was sitting beside him, and he had a reason to live again. His heart seemed to thump in his chest with twice as much conviction since he now knew she was here.

The older Monsieur's were talking still, and seemed to be pretty much ignoring the happy pair. They had no time for them anyway, not with this much happiness on their hands.

"Has your father been the one stopping by every day? With the bandages?" He'd only come to know of a man's visit since, each morning, the bell would ring, and each morning, Grandfather would ignore his inquiry as to who it was.

Cosette nodded. "Look. I have a callus on my finger, thanks to you. All I did was make bandages for four months! Do you know how much worry you caused all of us?"

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

"I forgive you," she said. She desperately wanted to tell him what she'd overheard, but she didn't want to say it out loud. Instead, she leaned down and whispered into his ear. "I think, at this precise moment, our fathers are arranging for us to marry."

He looked at her, stunned, and then glanced over at the other men, conversing seriously to each other.

"I overheard," she informed him. "Before you woke up."

He didn't dwell on the fact, because right now, he couldn't get any happier. Knowing Cosette was with him again was enough. Waking up, he hadn't even known she was really there- throughout his illness, he often dreamt about her being there. So when he awoke, it had taken him a minute to realize that this was the _real_ Cosette, not the dream Cosette. The one he hadn't seen in months. And it had been the most wonderful surprise he'd ever had. So, for the moment, it did not matter whether or not their fathers were discussing marriage.

But ten minutes later, when the facts were drawn out and announced, he _did_ let himself think about it. And he found out he could get happier. Knowing he had Cosette forever, that their lives were now one life to be shared, it was enough to push him from happiness to paradise.

He'd never expected this from his grandfather, who was usually cold and proper. Not something this kind and thoughtful. When Cosette and her father went home, Marius was exhausted- he'd been on quite the emotional journey, _and_ had been awake and talking for longer than he was used to. Before he succumbed, though, he made sure to thank his grandfather.

"Not at all, boy," he said gruffly, but indulgently. "It's my duty to make you happy. Do the same to your own grandson- that's how you can thank me."

Marius smiled, but his eyes closed before he could say anything else.


	5. A Moment Alone, and Marie

**Title: The Reception**  
**Summary: Marius and Cosette sneak away from their wedding reception prematurely**  
**World: Book**

They'd only been married a few hours yet. The hours could still be counted on one hand. However, he'd barely exchanged three words with his wife, for his grandfather was talking on and on! He was addressing the people at the party, or simply the two of them, always seeming to believe he had a welcome audience.

Marius kept reliving the ceremony, the vows he spoke, her hands in his, the radiant way she looked, the soft feel of her lips on his. He wanted to talk to her and spend some time with her, and kiss her again. He couldn't get that thought from his mind- he could wait the remaining hours until they had the night all to themselves, as long as he could have five minutes alone with her.

The time came- people were dancing and moving about, and for the first time all evening no one was talking to them.

"Can I see you alone?" he whispered into her ear. She nodded, and he led her outside onto the terrace. As soon as the door was closed, he realized that probably was not the best idea- it was freezing outside. Cosette shivered, her arms bare. She'd been wearing long gloves, but had taken them off earlier. "Sorry," he said, putting his hands against her arms.

She smiled up at him, and then he leaned down and kissed her again, just as quickly and sweetly as they had earlier that day. "I had to do that again," he stated, but did not finish, because she had reached up to continue kissing him.

They talked for a few minutes- neither saying much of grand importance. They could save serious conversation for later. For now, their whole future lay ahead of them, and they did not need to discuss it just yet. Instead, they could just enjoy each other.

He pulled her close overdramatically once more, kissing her until they were both breathless. "Until tonight," he whispered in her ear. Then he stood up straight and fixed his cravat.

"Shall we?" Marius said, gesturing back to the party.

"We shall," Cosette answered, a smile on her face, and the two went back inside to enjoy the remainder of their reception.

* * *

**Title: Marie  
Summary: Cosette thinks about her daughter, all grown up  
World: Book/my own  
**

Cosette and Marius had always been good parents. They raised their children with respect and to be courteous, and they were obedient and well behaved. They had not been sent away to boarding school, for Cosette always wanted to hear sounds of children in the house, no matter how old they were. Marie, the eldest, had always been quiet. That was why Cosette was so surprised when she woke one morning to this news.

"It seems that Marie is being courted," Marius told her after pulling her aside to talk to her alone in his study.

"Pardon?" Cosette asked, not believing her ears. She'd always been very careful repeating the story of how she and Marius had met to her children- especially to her daughters. It had worked out marvelously for them, but it was not the best example. She hadn't wanted her daughters to get any romantic and dangerous ideas that young men on the street were always nice and good to you- especially the students. She hadn't known it at the time, but it was clear from her oldest son's classmates that young men were very seldom as respectful as Marius had been. And those boys were still only sixteen- she shuddered at how they could be at twenty-five.

"I went into the garden last night and found a young man there, with Marie."

Cosette gasped. "No!"

"Apparently he's poor, and sees her every night, and they _claim_ they love each other. And both swore up and down they've been virtuous- though what kind of virtuous young man sees a girl at night, sneaking into her father's property, without his permission?"

Cosette giggled, not answering that one.

"I feel so disrespected. Why didn't he ask for her hand, if he was so in love with her?"

"He probably thought you would say no," Cosette offered.

"Why would he think that? If he'd been honest and asked me-"

"Marius," Cosette said, perching on his desk and sitting facing him, while he pounded his fists into the arms of his chair in frustration. "You're being completely silly."

"Why? Why is it silly of me to be angry when this man- no, he's not a man, he's a boy- was sneaking about behind my back, and my daughter had been lying to me for God knows how long?"

"Because we did the exact same thing!" she said, laughing. "Don't you remember?"

"That was different," he said quickly.

"Oh? You didn't sneak into my garden? As I recall, you did not speak to my father either."

"It's different because I was in love with you. And no, I did not speak to your father, because I'm sure he would have said no until he saw how upset _you_ would have been. And besides- we weren't even doing anything in the garden! We were just talking! See, Cosette, it's completely different."

"Marie could love this boy, too, Marius," Cosette said. "Just as I loved you. How would you feel then, if you sent him away and broke her heart? What if this boy is just like you, and he loves her, and he just wants to come talk to her at night, when you won't come and scare him away? How do you know they weren't telling the truth?"

Marius grumbled something, looking away. Cosette shook her head.

"You old grump!" she exclaimed, hopping off the desk. "I suggest invite this young man to dinner, and we can meet him. It's honorable, and that way we can at least give him a chance without letting he and Marie sneak off anymore. Besides- you know if we forbid them to see each other, they'll only find another way to meet up. Only then they might not be 'just talking.'"

"Marie would never disobey me!" Marius argued. Cosette raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? If my father found out about us and forbid you from coming over, would you have stopped? No. And I would have let you in to see me, you know it. And in a matter of time, we would have found something more... _intimate_ to do with our time together than just talking."

"Cosette! Are you suggesting they're-?"

"No, I'm not. Not yet, anyway. I know they're telling the truth, and I know Marie is an innocent girl with strong morals. But, from experience, I can say that even innocent girls can and will disobey their fathers. Even innocent girls can make mistakes if they fall in love. I say we stop it before they even get close. I say we have him over for dinner. But you do what you think is best," she said, leaning over and giving him a quick peck. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

He grumbled something about never letting this young man under his roof, but as soon as she left, he sighed angrily. She was right and he knew it.

He quickly penned a message to the young man, being as stern as he could in his invitation. Then he found Cosette again.

"I invited him for dinner. But in the meantime, come with me and we'll give Marie a good talking-to. Just so she thinks we're angry with her."

Cosette smiled- as angry as she should be, she couldn't bring herself to feel upset. She wanted her children to be happy. She hoped Marie's story ended somewhat like the way her own had. She followed Marius into the dining room where the rest of the family was eating breakfast, summoning her best disappointed look. While Marius lectured, she would pipe in once in awhile, but most just look upset with the girl. On the inside, though, she was feeling triumphant- Marie was in love. She couldn't be happier.


	6. Figuring Things Out

**Title: Figuring it Out  
Summary: Marius tries to find out how to make Cosette... happy.  
World: Book**

Cosette awoke early one morning and turned over to find Marius awake staring at the ceiling. She put a hand on his shoulder. "Good morning, my husband," she said, smiling.

He smiled back warmly, the smile finally reaching his eyes. "Good morning, my wife."

"You are all fuzzy this morning," she said, and he raised an eyebrow. "I mean you're growing a beard."

"Oh," he said, and absently touched his cheek. "I usually shave every day… I guess I forgot yesterday."

Her father always had a longer, soft beard, but Marius was always clean shaven. She wondered what the feeling of a new beard was. "Is it soft?" she asked.

"No… it's all scratchy," he said, and took her hand to his cheek. She giggled. "If I kiss you, it'll tickle," he said, and leaned in. He kissed her lips, but then rubbed his chin and cheeks around her face lightly, and she started laughing. She giggled more and more as he nuzzled her neck and collarbones.

But alas it was time to wake up. They climbed out of bed, and Marius went over to the little room off to the side of the bedroom with a washbasin and a mirror and began preparing to shave. Cosette, believing herself unseen, began dressing for the day. When Marius was shaving, he looked into the mirror, and could see Cosette's back as she readied herself. He blushed, still a bit embarrassed about it all, and looked away to give her privacy. She didn't know he could see her, so he shouldn't be looking.

But a few seconds later, he had to look again, and saw her bare back and legs as she put on stockings. He couldn't take her eyes off her as she secured them with garters, and then reached for a chemise and petticoat.

"_Gah!"_ he cried, hissing in pain and dropping the shaving knife. He'd cut himself. _You deserve it,_ he chided himself. _You aren't respecting her. Yes, she's beautiful- you already knew that. Don't think of her that way, even if you are her husband now._

Cosette called his name and came over- now at least partially clothed in a chemise- and doted on him sweetly, dabbing his face with a cloth. He was reminded of something. The day before, Cosette had cut her finger while opening a letter. Nothing dangerous, just a tiny cut. But she'd had the same reaction as he just had- hissing and dropping the letter.

They often laughed at the same things. When he held her, she would make a facial expression that fully represented what he was feeling during those moments. But when they made love… she did not have those reactions. The first night she'd had reactions, yes. But it had been a pained reaction. Afterwards… she did not react the same way as he did. When he kissed her, she was the same as he. But anything more? Different.

If they reacted the same when they _felt_ the same, then she obviously wasn't feeling what he was. Did that mean she couldn't? No… she seemed passionate and even, he blushed to think it, desiring beforehand. But…

He was a failure.

He had failed to make her feel any kind of pleasure at all.

* * *

Later that evening, Marius had a plan. He finished undressing for bed, ready to try and turn things around.

"Hey," he said, diving onto the bed as Cosette was bundled under the covers flipping through a book.

She laughed. "Hey, you."

He maneuvered himself under the covers and cuddled up next to her, kissing her. They were both lying side by side, and she tried to fold the page of her book back. Marius took it from her and tossed it off the bed, reaching his arm firmly around Cosette's waist, holding her as close as he could.

He was thinking hard this whole time. She was kissing him back, definitely. Passionately. She was clinging to him, holding herself tightly to him. She sighed. Obviously she liked this.

So he continued kissing her for awhile. But soon he realized that both of them wanted more. Cosette was pulling him closer, sighing out his name more.

"Show me what to do," he whispered to her.

She pulled away. "What?"

Now it was harder, with her looking at him like that. She was so beautiful, it was hard to think and look at her at the same time. Hard to think like a decent human being, anyway.

"I want to make you happy," he said simply.

"I _am_ happy, Marius," she said, smiling lazily and euphorically. "So happy…" she leaned in to keep kissing him, and it was hard, but he pushed her away lightly.

"No. I mean… I want you to feel what _I_ feel," he said, trying not to feel embarrassed and pulling her closer again.

She blushed deeply. "You mean when we…?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, _I _don't know," she said, not meeting his eyes. _Now _she's _embarrassed,_ he thought, cursing himself. Couldn't he do anything right?

So he just leaned in to kiss her again, and that seemed to make her happy. Not having to talk. He held her tightly in his arms, and she seemed satisfied. But he wasn't done- he had a mission.

"Just tell me where to touch you," he whispered again. She shook her head.

"I can't… it's…"

"It's what? I'm your husband now, Cosette. And I adore you… I want you to enjoy this-"

"I do," she said, her voice low, still not looking at him. He kissed the top of her head, the only part of it visible to him.

"More than you are now. I know there's more you can feel, and I want you to feel it-"

"I don't need to," she said, still blushing. "I'm fine. I love you and I don't need anything else."

He shook his head. She was fine now, but he couldn't bear to continue to get pleasure from her every night, and give nothing back. True, she loved him and said she didn't resent him. But if he didn't even make an effort, how long would it take before it felt like duty to her? Or worse- violation?

Tonight was too much. She was too embarrassed. He resigned himself to a night without, well…

But he wouldn't give up.

For the next few nights, they made little progress. He tried to bring it up, but Cosette would blush and insist that she was fine just the way things were.

"I like having you so close to me," she'd say.

"But don't you _want_ me?" he asked, not wanting to embarrass her, but needing to know.

"I always want you," she said candidly.

She didn't understand.

"I mean… desire. Do you get that… craving feeling?"

She hid her face in her hands, despite the dark. After so many of these conversations, he knew that meant 'yes, but I'm too embarrassed to say so.' She was adorable.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I adore you," she answered. "Can we not talk about this anymore? I know you're trying to be a good husband- but you already are. You already make me happy, and I don't need this. I'm happy without it."

He knew he'd been embarrassing her lately, and he didn't want to do that anymore.

"Can we make a deal, then?" he asked.

"What kind of deal?"

"If you want anything from me- _anything _at all- not just when we're in bed like this, tell me. Ok? I want to make you happy and I want you to have everything you want and need. It makes me unhappy to know that I'm not doing everything I can for you, but it's a lot easier to make you happy if you tell me when you want something," he said. "And in return, I'll stop bothering you about this."

"That sounds fair," she said. "Thank you. You are a wonderful husband, my Marius."

Then she smiled a huge grin that he detected even in the dark, making the conversation worth it.

For awhile, nothing happened. But one night as he held her and kissed her, he ran one of his hands over her breast still clothed in her nightgown. She caught his hand impulsively and drew it back up to her breast, guiding his hands over her, and he felt her shapes through the thin cotton. Heat shocked through his system, and suddenly he felt more desire than he'd ever felt before. He unbuttoned her nightgown and softly stroked her breasts, then leaning down to kiss them. Though she said nothing, she wrapped her hands behind his head, holding him close to her chest, then kissing him emphatically when he rose up again. She wrapped one of her legs around him, pulling him in closer. When he entered her, she let out a little sigh, and held him close to her long after they were finished. He knew they were making progress.

The next morning after they awoke, Cosette stood to go dress her hair in the mirror. Before she left, however, she turned towards Marius, a blush on her cheeks.

"Marius?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Remember about two weeks ago when you told me to ask you anything if I needed to?"

"Yes," he said, both glad that she was asking him and worried that he'd done something wrong. "What is it?"

"Well you see," she said, blushing more deeply and sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm not sure how to say this… but, um, before you, er, _start,_ can you wait a little longer?"

"Start what?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

She shook her head and hid her face in her hands.

"Cosette- don't be embarrassed." He said, sitting down next to her. "Just tell me."

She nodded and took a deep breath, but did not look at him. "Sometimes when we… when we make love, it hurts me. Not as much as it did the first time, but it burns and feels painful. But it's not _always_ like that," she said.

_So I not only fail to pleasure her- I also cause her pain?_ He was not happy with himself.

"Go on," he said. How else could he improve?

"So last night, it _didn't _feel painful at all. And I thought about it, and I realized that the more you, um… touch me and kiss me before we start to make love… well, the less it hurts. So can you just maybe wait a little longer next time?"

Oh. Now he knew what she was getting at. "Of course," he said, kissing her and then standing up. "Thank you for telling me- this is exactly what I meant, before. It'll be better next time. Don't worry, my love- I'm so sorry I caused you pain-"

"Don't be," she said, but he shook his head.

"No- I'm sorry and I'll try not to do it again. If anything hurts ever, tell me right away."

She just blushed, and he knew the discussion was over.

The next night, they were in bed again, and he was taking both her suggestions. He listened to her sighs, and paid attention to her breasts. He knew that the more aroused she was, then the less pain she felt. Instead of asking her if she was ready, he simply reached with his hand and touched her between her legs.

She gasped, and he stopped immediately, not sure if this was a good thing or not. But she looked at him with wide eyes, and he saw passion in them like he hadn't seen before.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Yes!" she whispered.

He roughly stopped her from speaking anymore by covering her mouth with his, and gently touching her, listening as she let out tiny little whimpers of pleasure. She held him tighter and tighter, and broke off their kiss as her breathing became more ragged.

When they were connected, she let out a cry- albeit a tiny one, it was the sweetest sound Marius had ever heard.

Finally, she sighed again, shuddering and crumpling in pleasure, holding him to her. Even after they were done, she held ever the tighter.

"Wait- don't move yet," she whispered, breathing heavy. "Just hold me here."

And he did- he held her with his arms beneath her back, her cradled against him. Cosette was trying to process what had just happened, and Marius was feeling finally like he'd done something right.

Finally he pulled away and lay down next to her.

"You felt it, didn't you?" he asked.

"I _think_ so. I definitely felt something… something I've never felt before. It must be what you're feeling."

"I think so- now you see what I mean? Wasn't it worth it?"

She didn't answer. He smiled, knowing she was probably blushing.

He wrapped an arm around her, drawing her closer. He was sleepy, but pleased with the progress from the night.

* * *

**Thoughts? PLEASE? I'll post another chapter with more funny and innocent vignettes next. Just please review! I really want to know what you think!**


	7. Goodbyes and Doting

**Title: Friends  
Summary: Courfeyrac says goodbye  
World: Book**

Marius sat alone, lost in the inferno that was his own mind. He looked around the tavern, but did not seem to see the other men embracing and bidding each other goodbyes. He had never really been their friend anyway- they were too different. Those other men, especially Enjolras, were so passionate for this cause. Marius never was. He'd die for it now, try and make the greatest impact with his death that he could, but ordinarily? He wouldn't be here.

He hoped death had the relief he needed. He hoped he would see his father, and that his father would be proud of him. Glad that, with his son's last act, he'd tried to benefit his land. But a part of Marius was scared because of the unknown he was plunging into by dying. However, that fear paled in comparison to the pain he was feeling.

While lost in thought, he hadn't heard anyone approach. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Courfeyrac, who had thus far been arranging his ammunition. The other man took a seat next to Marius, and put a resigned arm around his friend.

"So this is the end, isn't it?" he said, calmly. He tossed some of his dark hair from his eyes, and then gave Marius a dry, humorless smile. "It's been good, being your friend."

Marius smiled weakly. He didn't understand why Courfeyrac was choosing death- why all the other men were. Yes, _he_ wanted to die, but that was because the world did not offer anything for him anymore! But his friend was so _alive,_ his sense of humor intact, his emotions in check. Why did he want to throw that away?

"Thanks for everything," Marius said. "The room, the rent, the money I borrowed..."

"...And never returned," Courfeyrac said, flashing him a teasing smile. "Not a problem. You were a great friend- we've had some good times. You are like my brother, and it's hard to believe..."

"It's all ending," Marius finished, nodding his head.

"Shame we're all going to die," Courfeyrac said simply. "But we're dying for _freedom!" _He slapped Marius on the back and drew him into a standing position, embracing him with brotherly passion as he felt the brutality of the fight coming on.

"Just one more time, I'll try," Courfeyrac said, a glint in his eye. "Since in an hour or so, nothing is going to matter to either of us anyway, I don't see why it would make a difference for you to tell me... _what was her name?"_

Marius turned away so Courfeyrac couldn't see his face crumple in pain.

"Oh. Sorry," his friend said, obviously expecting a punch in the arm instead of his friend turning away, hurt. "Well- it's been fun, teasing you. I hope I'll see you again someday- maybe I can rile you then."

That was the last time Marius spoke to his friend. When the attacks resumed, Courfeyrac's humor finally was vanquished.

**Title: Doting  
Summary: Cosette is doted on a bit too much as Marius gets used to having her living with him  
World: either**

One afternoon, Cosette was sitting in her favorite room in her new house. It was mostly windows and overlooked the garden, so during the spring, it was drenched in sunlight. She sat with a book in her lap, reading and looking out at the budding flowers, enjoying some time alone. Then, she heard Marius enter the room. She looked up from her book and smiled at him, but then went right back to what she was doing. He sat down next to her.

They sat quietly for a moment, Cosette still reading.

"Are you comfortable?" Marius asked after awhile. She looked up, smiled, and nodded, and then went back to what she was doing.

Only about two minutes had gone by when he spoke again. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"No, thank you," she said, this time not looking up.

The silence only lasted about another minute, though. "Are you hungry?" he asked next.

"Well, we just had lunch," she said by way of answer.

He stopped talking for a few minutes, and she was glad. She wanted to keep reading her book. Every time she felt that he was going to break his silence, she put her hand over his and he stopped.

but he couldn't keep quiet for very long. "So you don't need anything?"

"No, I am completely fine. Thank you for asking."

He sat, obviously feeling awkward. Then it bubbled out again, "Are you _sure?"_

"_Yes_!" she said, getting exasperated. "I'm _fine!_ And if I was hungry, or thirsty, or uncomfortable, you'll be the first to know."

"I just feel like, with you here all the time now, I have to... I don't know. Act like a host."

She laughed. "How will I ever feel at home if you have to wait on me? I'll just feel like a guest."

"Oh. Well. Help yourself then."

"I will," she said, and went back to reading. The sun was shining on her, and it was a warm day. She put her feet up on the little stool in front of the chair, and felt the sun on her face. It shined on the fabric of her dress, covering her arms, making her feel warm and uncomfortable.

She bit her lip. It was hot, and a glass of water sounded very good right then. She could go get it herself, but she was so comfortable, sitting...

"Marius?" she asked meekly. "I'm feeling thirsty... Could you...?"

He was up before she finished the sentence.


	8. Riots and Toussaint

****

Title: May 15, 1848

**Summary: Riots occur again, sixteen years later  
World: either**

When Cosette woke in the middle of the night, she knew it was very late. She shouldn't be awake. The room was dark, and no light escaped through the lace curtains on the window. However, she also knew she was alone. She shouldn't be alone- she never slept alone. She crept out of bed and peered out through the curtains. When she strained her ears, she could hear yells. A faint orange glow was cast over the streets from the light of the lamps casting onto the exploded gunpowder and dust stirred up on the streets. The city of Paris was not asleep and it was not as it should be.

Where was Marius?

She was instantly worried. He'd promised to stay inside! He'd been saying for a few weeks that the elections would pose a problem and that people would be angry. But he'd promised never to go out there again... it didn't seem right. He'd posed his opinions on the results, yes, but had never admitted enough anger to go and fight.

Then the door to their room opened and he walked inside.

"I'm sorry- did I wake you?" he asked when he perceived her moving the curtain back over the window and removing the chaos from view.

"I think it was the noise on the streets," she whispered. "Where were you?"

"I was checking on the children... I wanted to make sure they weren't scared, and that the older ones were still in their beds."

She nodded tearfully, imagining for just a short second what would happen if her thirteen-year-old son had run outside... but she pushed the thought away quickly. It was terrible.

They climbed back into bed, and try as she might, the morbid thoughts kept coming.

"Promise me you won't go out there," she whispered.

"I already did," he said. "And the riots are loud, yes, but I haven't heard of very many people being killed-"

"Promise me," she said again. He obliged.

"I promise," he said, and drew her closer.

"It's just too awful... what if there's someone like you out there?" she whispered. "A young man out fighting, being thoroughly hot-headed and forgetting about his future... only this time, no one's there to save him? And the girl who loves him just waits at home? Only he never comes back?"

"Cosette..." he whispered, but he knew it was true. That would happen to someone tonight. A mother, a daughter, a sister, a lover, or even a grandmother, would be waiting for their man to come home, and he wouldn't.

"We pray," he finished. "We pray for all those unfortunate men out there, and then we thank God for our good fortune."

* * *

**Title: Toussaint  
Summary: Toussaint, in an effort to make things easier for Cosette, drives her nearly to hysterics  
World: Book**

"Mademoiselle Cosette?" came Toussaint's voice from downstairs.

Cosette looked up from her trunk which she was putting her folded dresses into. "I'm up here!"

A minute later, the older woman came huffing and puffing into Cosette's bedroom. It was rather barren now, with the closet emptied and the bed stripped. All her clothing lay atop it waiting to be packed, but her jewelry and knickknacks from her vanity had already been packed away. She would be moving out in the morning.

"Your father wanted me to talk to you," Toussaint said. Cosette was too busy trying to flatten out the large pile of clothes to notice the embarrassment in her voice. The pile was awfully big- Cosette was worried she would have to make two trips, or possibly find another trunk to bring.

"What about?"

"Please sit for a moment," Toussaint said. Cosette, confused, stopped working on packing her belongings and perched on the end of the now stripped bed. "Mademoiselle, I am here to talk to you about... about what to do... er... tomorrow."

Cosette shook her head, smiling. "Toussaint, I know what to do tomorrow! That's what the wedding rehearsal was for, silly."

But Toussaint blushed and looked away, and Cosette's stomach dropped. There was more.

"No. Tomorrow night. After the celebration. See it's called marital duty, and it's what men and women have to do after they get married. It's what makes children. You'll blow out the candles, and then he'll lift your nightgown and touch you..." Toussaint blushed again, and Cosette was most certainly not looking, for she was blushing red with horror. "And he'll lay atop you and... and that's what you do. Just lay still and let him finish. It hurts and it's sometimes quite embarrassing and shameful and uncomfortable and terrible and-"

"Toussaint!" Cosette said, covering her ears, still not looking at her waiting maid. "That will do."

"I just want you to be prepared. Try to think of something nice, and like I said- lie still and let him get it over with. Most women hate it, and they always will, and so you'll just have to get over it, because it's part of life and it's something everyone suffered though-"

"Enough!" Cosette said, now closing her eyes _and_ covering her ears, as though blocking out her sight would help. "Please leave me be!" she exclaimed. A few moments later, she was alone again.

Her heart was beating frantically, and she was so ashamed. That entire conversation had been horrid, and she never wanted to think about it ever again.

* * *

The next night, Cosette was shaking. Toussaint's words were running through her head. She'd told herself not to worry, not to think about what she'd said, but the words still crept through. She told herself that Toussaint was just an old woman and what did she know anyway? But as Cosette sat waiting for her husband to join her, she felt as though she was going to be sick. She hadn't even worried about this before Toussaint brought it up, but now Cosette was terrified and could think of little else but the coming doom.

Five minutes of agony passed, in which the room was spinning and Cosette paced about the room, sat on the bed, sat in a chair, and thought of every horrific instance that could possibly happen. Since she knew very little of what was actually supposed to happen anyway, her fantasies were only that much worse.

After the knock on the door sounded and she _really_ thought she was going to be sick, Marius entered the room. Without thinking, Cosette ran up to him.

"What's going to happen? What am I supposed to do? Toussaint said it's terrible and to lie still while you hurt me until you were done and I have no idea-"

He put his hands on her arms, and took an exaggeratedly deep breath, signalling for her to do the same. She did, but breathing didn't help- she looked up at him, eyes pleading for some mercy.

"Cosette," he said, and brushed his lips to hers lightly. Her head swam, forgetting her worries for a second. But then they returned full forced once her head cleared. "Just because we're married now doesn't mean anything's changed. You're still you and I'm still me. So if it's just the two of us... could anything really be that frightening?"

"Oh. Well... when you put it that way," she said, and rose up onto her tiptoes to kiss him.

A few hours later, Cosette asked Marius a question.

"Did we forget something?"

"Pardon?" he asked, confused and his mind jumping in a million different directions.

"I mean do people usually do something else on their wedding nights? Like... I don't know. Torture?"

"Not that I know of... why?"

"No reason," she said.

* * *

**Please give me your thoughts on this one! PLEASE!**

**There will be another chapter soon, but I really want to know what you guys think first. Reviews? :)**


	9. Parties

**Title: Parties  
Summary: Monsieur Gillenormond brings his family to a party, to the delight of Cosette and the dread of Marius  
World: Book**

"Do we _have _to go to this?" Marius whined for the hundredth time that day, his cravat still untied and his boots not laced up, as Cosette darted about the room looking for her gloves, her pearls, and various other accessories.

"I told you before- grandfather's friend is having this party to honor their fifty year long friendship. It's very special to them both. But wouldn't know- unless you've been friends with someone for fifty years?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Marius, still only twenty-three, decided it was best not to point out the absurdity of her question.

"Anyway. He wants us there-"

"You could go without me. Just go with grandfather," he said grumpily. He hated parties. He hated dancing. And he hated everyone asking him questions and all the attention he received, purely for being young. All the older people suddenly wanted to talk to him. Marius also realized that, in coming with Cosette, the amount of attention he would receive would increase exponentially.

"Do you know how silly that would look? And it's not as though I'll be having a grand old time at a party for people who are, at best, forty years older than me. So you have to come to keep me company. Besides, grandfather wants you there far more than I. You're his grandson. He'll want to show you off."

"I don't know... it seems as though he likes you far better than me. Just watch- within ten minutes, he'll be carting _you_ around the room, showing _you_ off and leaving me all alone in the corner. He definitely likes you far more than me," Marius whined. "Though I think it's only because you're pretty, which isn't very comforting to think about."

She rolled her eyes and pushed a few more pins into her hair, securing the curls to the top of your head.

"Now do I have to lace your boots up for you, or can you handle that?" she said with a smile on her face. "And keep in mind there is only one acceptable answer to that question."

* * *

"And this is my lovely granddaughter," Monsieur Gillenormond said, proudly gesturing to Cosette and smiling when people greeted her with kindness and awe at her beauty. "She's such a delight. Oh," he said, noticing Marius. He gave an awkward sort of cough and gestured weakly to Marius. "And this is her husband."

"I told you," he whispered in Cosette's ear. "I. Hate. Parties."

"Be polite," she said through a smile.

"Come, let's sit down," he said, gesturing to where their seats were at the prearranged tables.

Marius groaned when he saw the little place cards. They were at the head table, sitting with his grandfather and and other guest of honor and his family. "Whoever designed this seating chart must have been angry with me."

Cosette giggled when she saw it. Grandfather was seated in the middle. On his left was his friend who was throwing the party, and all the way down the left was his friend's family. She was seated at Grandfather's right, and next to her was an old friend of both men. On his other side was Aunt Gillenormond, and then Marius was stuck sitting at the end of the table next to her.

"No, no, _no!" _he whined again. "I already had to come to this party- and, my dear, have I made it clear enough that I-"

"Hate parties?" she said, smiling.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, trying very hard not to make a scene. He felt like he was ten and had to sit at the kid's table like he used to when his grandfather would have dinner parties. "Since I already made this sacrifice to come here, I demand to have you next to me. That way you can save me from saying something stupid, or attempting to drown myself in my glass of water."

Cosette rolled her eyes again at his melodrama, but then calmly sighed. "No one else is at the table yet. Here- switch Grandfather's friend with you and sit next to me."

"You're brilliant!" he exclaimed.

"And you're the lawyer," she said to herself. Weren't lawyers supposed to argue people out of problems? Well, Marius was being a very good arguer tonight.

They sat down in their seats, and Cosette sighed, watching all the people dancing. She looked down at her beautiful dress, which was meant to be admired and danced in. She sighed again, more loudly this time. It took until she started to sound as though she was having an asthma attack before Marius noticed.

"I know what you're thinking," he said, looking dreadfully at her her. "But really, darling. It's for the best. You don't want me to dance."

"Actually, I do," she said, ignoring his look of protest. "I would love for you to dance with me. See, I dressed up and look quite beautiful tonight, do I not?"

"You do."

"Thank you. So why look so beautiful if I cannot enjoy it, while I am dancing? My gown is brand-new. I haven't worn it yet outside of the seamstress' place. What is the use of it, if I cannot dance?"

"Because I see how beautiful you look," he said, clutching at straws. "Isn't that enough?"

She knew how to get what she wanted. So she sighed again, put a hand on her husband's arm, and made her eyes very big and beseeching, noting that the violet of the dress picked up the blue in her eyes and the blush in her cheeks. "Oh, I would just _love _to dance. I so wish I could dance with you, just once. It would make me so terribly happy. Though I suppose I cannot force you-"

"One dance," he said, standing up and looking grim, as though he were walking to the guillotine.

"Well, don't ask politely or anything," she said, elated.

He grimaced. "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

She beamed and sprang up from her seat.

When they made their way out onto the dance floor, Cosette was positively glowing with happiness, and Marius was trying to hide.

"I don't know the steps," he mumbled so only Cosette could hear.

"Do you think everyone in this room knows the steps?" she asked, looking about at the crowd of people. "No. Just take steps around yourself and twirl me once in awhile. Just look as though you know what you're doing and you'll be fine."

"How did you figure this out?" he whispered. "You didn't have dance lessons either, did you?"

"No. Dancing isn't terribly popular at the convent," she said dryly.

"I can't imagine why."

They danced for one song, and then a simple bat of her eyelashes won her another. But then Marius, looking over the top of Cosette's head, groaned yet again.

"What is it?" she asked, wondering what could possibly be wrong this time.

"Look."

Then, just a minute later, they were joined by grandfather.

"Hello, you two. I hope you're enjoying the party. Now, Marius. Would you mind if I borrowed Cosette for a moment? I want to introduce her to some friends who haven't had the good fortune to meet her yet."

"Why can't I come, too?" he asked beseechingly.

"They already know you!" he said gruffly.

"It seems I have no choice," Marius surrendered. But not before he whispered once again in Cosette's ear. "_I told you!"_

Marius quickly reasoned that, without Cosette, he would be positively foolish to stand on the dance floor, as it would be only a matter of time before someone came to bother him. So he grumpily made his way back up to the table and sat there alone, watching grandfather tow his wife around just like he knew would happen. He was rather comfortable with not having to talk to anyone, though, and no one was bothering him.

"Hello, Marius," came a voice, and he looked up to see his Aunt. He nodded at her, but was very upset that she sat down next to him. "Are you enjoying the party?" she said glumly.

"Not very much," he admitted.

"I am not either. I don't enjoy parties. They're so faithless."

That wasn't why Marius hated parties, but he just nodded. Silence crept over them both, but it was not a comfortable silence like sitting alone. He kept thinking _'I should say something to her' _but he couldn't think of anything. Awkwardness sat with them too, as though determined to make Marius uncomfortable. He shifted positions in his seat about twelve times in one minute, cursing grandfather for stealing Cosette away. See, if Cosette were here, she would think of something to say to Aunt Gillenormond, because Cosette never felt awkwardness, it seemed. Not in social situations, anyway. Not even Aunt Gillenormond's stony, staring silence could make Cosette uncomfortable.

Finally he gave up and left the table after an awkward goodbye to Aunt Gillenormond. He found Cosette in the crowd, standing by an old couple and Monsieur Gillenormond. Cosette, of course, was being the picture of politeness and youth in complementing the woman on her dress and jewelerly.

"You look so lovely," she said with a kind smile to the older woman, who looked more flattered than she'd probably been in years. Marius rolled his eyes- could Cosette fail at being charming to anyone in the entire world? No. Then she noticed Marius was standing next to her, and she beamed at him, and then introduced him to the older couple. Grandfather had lied. They didn't know Marius- he'd never seen them before in his life.

Finally, dinner was served. They all made their way up to the table, and then grandfather eyed the seats.

"I could have sworn you were at the end, Marius," he said.

"No," he said, and Grandfather eyed him suspiciously.

"No, he was next to me the whole time," Cosette said smoothly. Of course Grandfather believed her right away.

Throughout dinner, grandfather made several backhanded complements about Marius, which he certainly did not appreciate. He made it through the meal because Cosette had artfully angled her chair so that her knee was against his throughout the meal, and she could lean in to tell him things without attracting notice.

"Smile," she'd say, reminding him. "Happiness. Be polite."

After dinner, speeches, dessert, and some final rounds of dancing and socializing, it was time to go.

On their way out while Marius was holding out Cosette's cape for her, he whispered in her ear one more time.

"I-"

"Hate parties!" Cosette said happily, as though it were a wonderful thing. She giggled. "You are so funny when you're grumpy."

He sulked. Nothing worked. But as he sat in the carriage on the way home, he was consoled. Home. There was no one dancing at home, no one questioning him or staring at him. Perfect.

"I think I should host a party," Grandfather mused. "We haven't had a large party in the house since the wedding... I think it would be marvelous idea."

Marius slumped into his seat and sighed. Cosette put a hand on his arm, but he was past solace. Another party.

Wonderful.

* * *

**This might be my favorite chapter so far. Please let me know what you think!**


	10. Cold and Waking Up

**Title: Cold  
Summary: Cosette, younger than Marius in many ways, does not grasp selflessness quite yet  
World: Book**

Cosette stepped out of her French doors and into the garden, instantly shivering. It was pouring rain out, and the water was cold as it soaked through the thin cotton sleeves and fell onto her hair. Though it was spring, the early May nights were cold once the sun hid itself away, and the rain only chilled her more. Still, Cosette wasn't thinking much about the cold, as she was going to meet Marius.

Ten minutes later, though, her hands were shaking and her fingers were growing stiff. She could think of little else but hot baths and being tucked in a warm blanket next to a fire. Marius tightened his grip around her hands.

"You're frozen," he said, noticing her shivering and her icicle fingers.

"I could go inside and get my jacket," she remarked, not wanting to leave the garen. But she did want to be warm.

"No- take mine," he said, shrugging out of his own.

She thought immediately of warmth and naturally reached out to take it, her instincts begging for the relief it would bring from the cold. Only her manners stopped her, as she realized it would not be polite to accept his offer without refusing at least once.

"No, I couldn't," she said delicately. "You need it."

"Not at all," he said, and handed it over without another word. She took it without a thought for his comfort.

Still, when thinking of how easily he gave it up, Cosette thought it was silly. She was absolutely freezing- surely he was as well! Or at least he would be without a jacket. How could he even think of handing over his coat? She couldn't quite understand it. She was totally preoccupied with her own discomfort, and it was mind-boggling to imagine that he wasn't. If she had been wearing a jacket, she sure would not have offered it away!

"Aren't you cold?" she asked. "Why would you give me your jacket? You'll be as cold as I was without it."

"I don't like seeing you cold," he remarked, as though it was obvious. "Watching your pain is twice my own."

"Oh," she said, still not completely understanding. How could her pain really bother him that much? She knew from experience that watching someone else hurt didn't actually hurt you, even if you felt bad for them. What could he even mean? Still... she was freezing and gratefully accepted the coat. If her pain was twice his, he wouldn't mind if she used it. She'd make it up to him someday.

* * *

**Title: Waking Up  
Summary: Marius truly wakes up after the barricades  
World: Any in which Cosette cares for him after his injury (maybe Claire Danes movie because she does care for him, but they still meet more than once before the barricades?). Anyway, goes along with the first vignette in this chapter.**

Marius stirred, feeling layers of sleep dissipate. He became more and more conscious as he surfaced through the levels of dreams, until he opened his eyes.

He did not recognize the room- it was bare and modest, with beige walls, a fireplace that was not lit, and a wooden bureau. He was in a small bed in the corner of the tiny room. Where was he?

His mind was befuddled. He felt like he was missing something, like he'd woken in the middle of a story and missed the beginning. Before he could dwell on this, the door opened.

He knew where he was at once. Cosette came through the door, holding a basket of materials and giving him a brilliant smile. He didn't know how he got here, or where he was exactly, or why Cosette was here, but that was alright.

"Marius!" she exclaimed. "You're awake. That's a nice change- usually I have to wake you up first." She spoke in a soft, calm tone as though speaking to a child.

"Usually?" he muttered, then coughed. No sound had come out of his voice, and it felt like it hadn't been used in a long time. "What do you mean, 'usually'? What's going on?" he said, glad to be able to speak this time.

"When I usually come in to change your bandages, you aren't awake yet. Sometimes you are. It was just nice to see your eyes open," she said brightly.

_Bandages!_ _Of course! _he thought, remembering pain. When he remembered it, he began to feel it again, and discovered his shoulder aching horribly. Right. The injuries from the barricades.

"I've been awake before this?" he asked, things getting clearer and clearer. He could piece some things together- he was ill, he was recovering from his injuries at the barricades. Cosette had been caring for him. He was probably in a room in Cosette's house now.

"Why yes," she said, confused. "You've opened your eyes and spoken a bit- muttered is more like it, actually."

"I don't remember it," he said, straining. But then he brightened. "Well, then I must really be conscious now, because I feel quite awake."

She beamed, but still seemed wary. She brushed a hand to his forehead, and he realized she was seeing how warm it was.

"You don't have a fever anymore," she marveled, as though to herself. "How do you feel?" she said to him.

"Tired," he said, and that was true. But his direct answer to her question and eye contact were enough to make her happy.

"Oh, I _knew _you'd get better!" she exclaimed, positively glowing. "I've been praying and praying! You're really awake now, not just dream-awake. You were talking to me before, but you weren't yourself. Oh, you're _Marius_ again!" she finished. He cracked a weak smile, not able to muster up a full one, though he wanted to.

He was alive. Cosette was here. She wasn't in England, and her father was obviously letting him stay in their house. He had no idea how all those things could be true, but it seemed they were.

"Still, business is business," she said. "First," she said, and produced a glass full of disgusting colored liquid. "For you to drink."

He made a face. "Have I been drinking this before?"

"Every day," she said, making a face right back. "I'm sorry, I know it's miserable. I tried some once, just to see what you were drinking- it's awful. But it has everything you need to get healthy again, and obviously it's working."

He knew he wouldn't be able to lift the glass, and before he needed to suffer thought the mortification of having her help him drink, he looked out the window. The tiny slit in the curtains showed a patch of blue sky, but mostly just the brick of the house across the street.

"Cosette, what day is it?" he asked idly.

"September sixth," she said after a bit of thought.

Marius blanched.

_September. _He'd fought in _June! _He'd been unconscious for almost three months to the day. _Three entire months!_ He couldn't even wrap his mind around it. Worse, he didn't feel up to anything at the moment- not even lifting the glass, must less walking. His shoulder was throbbing and burning, and he vaguely remembered being shot there.

He had no idea how long it would be until he was well again. Still, he _would_ be well again. That was more than he could say for his friends.

"You've been sick a long time," Cosette said softly, reading his face.

"You've been here this whole time?" he asked, trying to piece together these lost three months.

"Yes- someone brought you here in the middle of the night- that night when you didn't come to see me like you usually did. I was asleep, but I woke up when my Papa brought in a doctor to see you. The doctor's the one who's been the most help, of course- you'll see him later today. He comes every day to give you medicine, and give me instructions. I couldn't have kept you healthy without him. I think I was silly and upset most of the time."

"I doubt it," Marius said. If Cosette had been near him when he was sick, he knew that her presence would do him more good than any doctor's. He may have been wrong about this, but that was what he believed.

"Now... time to drink," Cosette said grudgingly, as though she was guilty she had to feed him something so ghastly. He looked positively horrified at her, and she understood. "Oh, don't be embarrassed. We do this every day. I'm just helping you a little, that's all."

"I wasn't awake every day," he murmured. Doing something embarrassing while you were unconscious and doing something embarrassing while you were awake were two entirely different things.

"I want you to be awake," Cosette said. "In just a few days I'm sure you can do this yourself."

He looked away. It was too mortifying to have someone _feed _you. And not just anyone- to have Cosette feed him, when he wanted to appear strong and worthy for her, was just cutting. Though he supposed if he was unconscious in her home for three months, any beliefs she had previously held about him being strong would have evaporated by now anyway.

"I'm not going to laugh at you," she said very gently. "Here," she said, and helped him sit up. As he moved, he was more conscious of all of his injuries- he seemed to have a gash in his side in addition to the particularly painful wound on his shoulder. Cosette knew where his wounds were though, and was careful not to irritate them. Then, she put his good hand on the glass, and let him hold it up almost completely and direct it into his own mouth. She just held the bottom so the weight of the mineral-enriched drink was not too much for him. He loved her more for the way she let him keep his dignity.

"There," she said smiling. "That was not so terrible."

He begged to differ, tasting the bitter drink, but was not about to argue with her. He was simply happy she was with him. It was like he'd woken out of a nightmare- trapped for three months in an unconscious stupor, believing himself at the barricades, believing Cosette to be lost to him, and believing his life was about to end. Only instead upon waking finding that he had been safe the whole time. He was almost angry with his mind for making him miss these three months he'd spent with Cosette unknowingly. He felt a patch of pride and wonder at knowing she had cared for him ceaselessly for this long- that she wanted him this much.

"Now for your bandages," she said in a businesslike manner. She retrieved her basket, which turned out to be filled with linen, some cotton wads, and a glass bottle with clear liquid inside. This time, though, he noticed that she had a slightly red tinge to her cheeks and she avoided his eyes.

_Oh,_ he thought, knowing what came next.

"You're going to need to..." she began, but couldn't finish. Usually, when he wasn't quite conscious, she could change his bandages without incident. This was more difficult.

He knew he wouldn't be able to unbutton buttons. One arm was beyond movement anyway due to the injury in his shoulder, and the other couldn't handle that dexterity just yet. But he felt positively blasphemous, having her unbutton his _nightshirt!_ Like he was corrupting an angel. _Still,_ he thought,_ she must have done it before._

He tried not to think of that.

But then she summed up her businesslike manner again and undid the buttons herself, gently moving back the sleeves so that she did not jostle his shoulder. When she _very_ carefully cut the old linen off, she instructed him strictly not to look at his wound.

"We don't need you getting sick on us, do we?" she said by way of explanation. Personally, he didn't want to see what his skin looked like anyway, if the wound caused this much pain three months after the fact. "This is going to hurt," she said, after dipping the cotton in the glass bottle. He smelled alcohol. "I'm sorry- I need to clean your skin, but it'll burn."

He figured it wouldn't hurt more than a little sting- but he had never had a wound this terrible before. It burnedlike _fire!_ He restrained from swearing, considering his company, but just barely. He focused instead on Cosette's face. She was concentrated, and had a little crease between her eyes. On closer inspection, he saw she looked different.

She was no longer the young innocent girl he'd fallen in love with on the streets of Paris. She had a serious look in her eyes, a fatigued shadow to them, and a wariness in her gaze. She looked sad and tired, and looked like she was carrying more on her shoulders now. She also had dark circles under her eyes and a tired posture. She looked older, mature. He assumed that caring for a person completely for three months was not easy on her. But he did not mind- he had changed too. He couldn't have gone through what he did without changing. She'd changed with him.

He took his eyes away from her as she cleaned the wound on his side, and then began bandaging them both with fresh linen. She tied off the bandages and buttoned him back up. When she faced him again, he saw tears running down her cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, trying to reach his good arm up to touch her cheek, but finding himself too weak again. This was frustrating.

"You should sleep," she said, wiping her tears away.

"You are sad," he said, concerned and bothered by this. "Why?"

"Because," she said as though it was obvious now. "I've learned what you meant, before. Your pain is twice mine. I've witnessed it for three months, I want it to be over. Heal, Marius. Become healthy again- I can't take any more pain."

He looked at her for a long time, and realized she had changed, more than he thought. She wasn't a child anymore, wasn't a girl. She was grown, a woman.

"I promise. I will."


	11. Marie Again

**Title: Mother and Daughter  
Summary: Cosette talks to Marie on the eve of her wedding  
World: Either**

Cosette sighed, looking at the grandfather clock on the wall. Nine thirty. She should go upstairs if she wanted to talk to Marie before she retired... But there was still so much work to do! The food that could be prepared in advance was done and set aside, but decorations were being erected all over the Pontmercy living room and dining room, flowers being delivered, candles set out, extra furniture being procured and set out to seat all the guests.

"I think I'll go to bed now," Cosette said to Marius, who looked at her as though she was crazy.

"There's still so much work to do!" he gasped.

"It's getting done, just watch," she said, pointing to the servants who were working. With so many extra people working on the construction of Marie's wedding, individual people did not have too much work on their hands. However, Marius was the one in charge of both the party planning (not his forte) and the legal agreements, so he had a lot on his shoulders. "I need to talk to her before she goes to bed," Cosette explained, and like always, he understood.

Cosette walked up the stairs of her home, where she had lived for the past nineteen years- nearly twenty, come this February. The upstairs looked the same- not garnished with flowers and candles or scrubbed beyond recognition. It was still home. However, when she reached her eldest daughter's bedroom and lightly knocked, it was different. Her daughter's soft voice beckoned her inside, and the room was stripped except for the bed, which was left for Marie to sleep in. A washbasin still sat in the corner, as well as a casual dress for the morning and the garment bag with her gown, come time for the ceremony. Everything else had been moved.

Marie and her soon to he husband were moving into a tiny yet charming house in the same quarter- actually only few minutes' walking distance from her home. Marius had gone with his daughter's fiancé to pick it out (something Cosette forced him to do, so he could actually get to know the young man instead of simply tolerating him- Marius had a hard time letting go of his eldest daughter, for she was very special to him). Even though she would still be so close, Marius, Cosette, and Marie's siblings were already feeling her absence.

"Hello, darling," Cosette said. Her beautiful daughter turned her dark eyes up to her mother. Marie was sitting on the edge of her bed, her long thick hair hanging in curtains around her face, ready for bed. Her large eyes were frightened.

"Maman," she said weakly.

Cosette gave her a smile, and sat down next to her daughter. She was built differently than her mother- Cosette all soft lines and curves, with a round face and twinkling eyes, Marie was her opposite. She was tall and thin, with straighter lines than her mother. Her face was hollow, but in a beautiful way, pronouncing her cheekbones. Her dark brown eyes were secretive and sad, with a different beauty than her mother's kind and humor-filled blue ones.

Cosette ran her hand through her daughter's thick hair, and then untied a ribbon from her own twisted array on top of her head.

"Here," Cosette said, and began to comb through Marie's hair with her fingers, loving the feel as she felt the soft strands slip against the skin of her hands. She had always loved this feeling, even when Marie had the soft, fine hair of a baby. Then she began to braid it loosely back for a comfortable night's sleep- something she would probably do for the last time.

While Cosette braided, Marie finally spoke. Her voice held all the fears that Cosette had felt nearly twenty years ago- fear of leaving behind your family (though for Marie it was worse, for she was losing both her mother and her father, as well as all her siblings), the fear of the unknown, and wondering if you would be happy. If, in leaving behind the security of the home you'd grown up in, you would also leave behind happiness.

"Maman," Marie said again in a shaking voice. "Please, tell me the truth. Will you?"

"I promise to," Cosette said, knowing what Marie needed now was love, more than truth. But still she promised. She was old enough now.

"Not every marriage is as happy as yours and Papa's. Am I right?"

Cosette bit her lip. She wanted to say that Marie was wrong, and that every couple was this happy. True, Cosette and Marius had not been happy for every day of their marriage, but overall they had fought little and shared an uncanny respect for each other. He had treated her with more worth than she knew most husbands did, and she had never doubted that she was more than just the mother of his children.

She wanted to tell Marie that it was always like this- that husbands did not really sleep with other women, or gamble and drink, or beat their wives, or leave them with nothing. But that wasn't true.

"No, Marie. Not all marriages are happy," she confessed. Her daughter looked at her, her already enigmatic eyes now heartbreaking in their fear.

"How... how can I make sure that it doesn't happen to me?" she whispered.

Cosette was stumped. She had no idea- she had merely gotten lucky. Cosette had heard of lots of people who had started out loving their spouses, but then eventually it went away. Or infidelity poisoned their marriage, or one of the spouses changed. How could Cosette tell Marie that it was simply luck that she had found the right person, not just for her when she was seventeen, but now when she was thirty-seven?

"You have to hope that happenstance has led you to someone who will change _with _you as you change. You can't hope for someone who'll stay the same for the rest of their life, because you won't stay the same. You'll outgrow them, or they'll outgrow you... You just have to pray that, in twenty years, your lives still connect. And you need to give, and to love, as much as you can. Nothing can ruin your chances more than selfishness."

Marie was quiet. "I don't know how to _know_ if he's going to love me in twenty years! He loves me now, but how do I _know-?_"

"You won't," Cosette said, putting an arm around her daughter. "You'll never know. You won't even know if you'll love _him _in twenty years."

Marie shook her head. "I will. I know I will."

"Well then," Cosette said, smiling. "You'll be fine, as long as you remember that."

* * *

**Please, please, PLEASE review this if you read it! I want to read what you think!**


	12. Jitters

**Title: Jitters  
Summary: Cosette is nervous to marry  
World: Musical**

Cosette was not exactly happy. Yes, she was supposed to be eagerly awaiting the signal for her to get ready to march down the aisle, but instead she was terrified. She was in a small chamber on the side of the church, waiting for the clock to strike two. She stood in front of the mirror, looking herself over carefully. A bride stood before her, looking radiant in all the white silk and lace. The pearls hung over her delicate neck, her skin white and creamy. Cosette knew she was beautiful. She'd been told enough times, and her eyesight worked perfectly. She was a pretty girl, a beautiful young woman.

Her beauty was not what was worrying her. She was worried, with every tick of the clock, whether Marius would be there when the church doors opened and she could finally see down the aisle. Her father had left her, and the feeling was entirely too familiar. Yes, she knew she was beautiful, but Cosette also knew several other things about herself. She wasn't the most interesting of people- how on earth could she be? She'd had virtually no life experiences. She had no good stories to share, and was not the best of conversationalists. She liked flowers, music and birds- that seemed dreadfully boring now. Marius must be worried- in a month, they'd run out of things to say to each other. Oh, he'd have plenty to say, for he was well read and clever and had _plenty_ of funny stories. But she'd have nothing to tell him. Cosette knew that Marius was going to grow bored of her in just a month. Maybe less. After all, if she was so interesting, why had her father left her?

And beauty wasn't everything. Cosette walked down the street and saw women just as beautiful as she was. Beauty wasn't really very rare. Dozens and dozens of beautiful women walked by Marius every day. Only those women knew how to use their beauty- how to dress, how to act, how to be with men. Cosette knew nothing, and her stomach clenched anxiously. She'd seen plenty of those beautiful women looking at Marius in a way that made her insides crawl. He was handsome- obviously she knew that. So did all those other women. It was only a matter of time before he realized this...

A knock sounded on the door.

"Enter," she said, her voice sounding dry and weak. An altar boy came inside, and Cosette couldn't even smile at him.

"Bon jour, Mademoiselle," he said awkwardly. She smiled indulgently- he was about twelve, at the precious age of awkwardness and ugliness. She herself had gone through this, and thought him adorable in his discomfort. He balked at her beauty, and then blushed. "I have a note for you from Monsieur Pontmercy," he said, thrusting a paper towards her in his sweaty hand.

Cosette's heart picked up speed instantly. Wasn't this what happened? She received a letter right before she was to go down the aisle? She knew what it would say, '_I'm sorry. I couldn't go through with this. Forgive me.'_Well, she was glad that he at least spared her the embarrassment of going out in front of the hundred people who would see her rejected.

"Thank you," she said, her voice not working. She wanted to be alone when she read this, didn't she? So she could hide her chagrin. No- it would be better to have some company. She gestured for the boy to sit down and she opened Marius' note. There were just a few short lines on the plain paper.

_Dear Cosette,_

_I'm writing to you because I'm not supposed to see you yet. Otherwise I'd come out of this room that the church has put me in and find you myself. Are you nervous? I don't know if I am or not. The thought of going out in front of all those people is slightly unnerving, but the rest isn't scary. I cannot wait until you're my wife, finally. _

_I love you. I hope you're not too nervous. I also hope you're planning on walking down the aisle today... I can't shake the idea that you're going to run away on me. Please don't do that!_

_I'm sorry this note was neurotic. I'm just distracted. I'll be fine once I see you. _

_Yours, _

_Marius_

Cosette breathed a sigh of relief so deep it seemed to come from her very bones. He was nervous. He was _here,_ waiting, just as she was. Of course, he was more nervous about having all those people (essentially strangers) staring at him- he was so shy. But he wasn't nervous to marry her. He would be there. He wasn't going to leave her.

She heard the chimes from the bells in the tower on top of the church begin to ring. It was two o'clock.

"Mademoiselle?" the boy asked, standing up and gesturing to her. She smiled brilliantly at him, and he blushed again. "Are you ready?"

She realized it was the last time she'd be called Mademoiselle, but did not mind in the least.

"Yes," she said, and left the room with confidence.

* * *

**Sorry it's been forever without an update. I just went back to high school. Junior year! Ahh... anyways. Please let me know if you like this chapter, and if you have some ideas! I have a couple stewing around right now, but I always want to know what you think. Reviews are lovely! **


	13. Fights and Cousins

**Title: Fights  
Summary: After her father's death, Cosette is upset  
World: Book**

Cosette tossed and turned in bed, both too hot and too cold. She could not get comfortable. Each hour struck off and her eyes seemed to be more and more open, her stomach sicker and sicker. It had been four days without speaking. Four of the longest days of her life. He told her what had happened- the misunderstanding, his overreaction. Cosette had walked away without a word, angry that he hadn't simply asked her father for the truth, affronted that he could assume so much about her father's character, a man he barely knew. Marius had made the decision for both of them, regarding her father- and he had chosen wrong.

She had been brokenhearted. She never expected Marius to hurt her. But that was only a small part of the pain- the rest was her father's loss, and the knowledge that he had lived most of his life in fear and self-hatred. And, after a few hours of heavy thinking and crying, Cosette sat alone in the library, her head in her hands, enveloped in a huge leather chair.

Father was gone. He would never smile at her again, never take her for another walk or come for another visit. Cosette appreciated her wonderful life with him even more now that she knew how much he had risked to give it to her. "Papa," she whispered, sobbing.

But then she caught sight of herself in the mirror, prostrated on the chair, face red, body convulsing with sobs. She was a grown woman now. A _married_woman, for that matter, with duties and responsibilities... She'd lost her father months ago, when Marius had banished him from the house... But really, could she even blame him?

At this point Cosette did not want to look at her father's bad qualities, but one did demand attention. His tendency to be cryptic. To lie.

Marius hadn't known everything. No, he hadn't asked, but her father had led him to believe an untruth. Marius had wanted to protect her, and she was punishing him. She'd ignored his attempts to apologize, given him the cold shoulder at the funeral, and shut the door to the bedroom firmly after she'd retired. That was just the first day- she'd continued this for three more after that, but now she wasn't so sure.

She was being cruel, immature, horrid. Her anger, though not quite dissipated, had lessened as she rationalized it. But how would they ever solve this problem if she ignored him? And mind, this problem _would_ be solved- she would not stand by and watch this ruin their relationship. And he was hurting. Cosette had wounded him. Yes, she'd meant to make him feel bad for what he'd done, but she feared that she'd wounded him far more than was necessary. She knew undoubtedly that what she was doing was worse- she was hurting him on purpose, whereas he'd been trying to help her.

Tears escaped from her eyes. "Oh!" she grunted, hitting the pillows of the bed angrily. She wanted to talk to him desperately, and to work this problem out. She feared that if she waited until morning, she'd lose her nerve. So quietly and nervously, she put on her slippers and crept across the hallway into the guest bedroom where he was sleeping. Forgiving him was necessary- really, she already had. He just needed to know.

As soon as she opened the bedroom door, she regretted it. What if he was angry with her for how she reacted? What if he started to hate her? And maybe she was being callous in thinking all that was necessary was for her to forgive him. After her childish treatment of him, maybe she needed to ask for forgiveness.

He was asleep. She tiptoed next to his bed, where he was illuminated by a lamp, the wick still burning beneath the glass. He hadn't blown it out, so maybe he'd only just fallen asleep. He did not look peaceful- his fists were clenched around the sheets as he lay on his stomach, his brow furrowed even in rest. Cosette felt a rush of affection and sadness, moisture pooling into her eyes as she watched him. How could she have been so stupid? She unconsciously reached out and laid a hand across his cheek.

He woke then, and she snatched her hand back immediately, but not before he noticed her.

"Cosette," he whispered, sitting up.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I've been horrible, a horrible wife and a horrible person, ignoring you like that! My feelings were hurt, I didn't know what else to do..."

"Don't," he said, his eyes pained. "Don't apologize- I was stupid, bullheaded and thinking I was smarter than I was. I should have asked him, should have been honest to both of you."

"Yes- you were stupid. Stupid not to ask me- honestly, who knew the man better than I? But I forgive you, a thousand times over... Next time, please tell me... and when something happens like this, don't disappear like that. I promise I'll talk to you even when I'm angry- I can't take another day, another night without talking. I've been so desolate..." Her shoulders were shaking.

"Come here," he whispered, and held out his arms to her. She needed no more invitation- the argument was over. He wrapped his arms warmly around her, and she held him tight, pressing her face against his shoulders. "I promise not to be that stupid again," he whispered. "God- you're the best friend I have, Cosette... and so much more. I'll never do that again."

"Hush," she whispered, tugging him so that he lay down. She leaned to blow out the flame in the lamp. "I haven't slept right in days... I've been having nightmares. Please... let's just rest." She snuggled up to him once the room was dark again, breathing out in relief when she was pressed against his warmth again, and she felt his arms encircle her. Before she succumbed to sleep, she smiled and remembered that she could get through.

* * *

**Title: Theodole  
Summary: Marius' cousin comes for a visit  
World: Book**

Cosette walked down to that dreaded room in the cellar and greeted her father, beaming, but not embracing him. His odd behavior had indicated that was not to be done.

"Good evening, Papa," she said. "I'm afraid that I'll have to cut our visit short tonight- we are having a guest for dinner." Some cousin of Marius' was coming, a lancer named Theodole. She couldn't say she knew him. "But we'd simply love to have you, too. You're quite welcome to stay."

"You are very kind. But no thank you," he said with a smile. Cosette nodded, expecting this. Papa seemed positively different from who he used to be.

They moved on with their visit, but at six Cosette had to bid him goodbye. There guest was coming in a half hour and she had to be sure that everything was ready. Over that morning at breakfast Aunt Gillenormond had informed them of her favorite young man's visit. Both Marius and Grandfather made a face, but Cosette was not fazed, since she did not know who he was. Everyone informed her that he had come to the wedding and was blond, but Cosette could barely place him.

The doorbell rang a half hour later, and he was brought into the parlor with everyone else. Cosette realized she _had_ seen him before, and not just at the wedding. She could not remember where, however, but for some reason she grew uncomfortable with the memory. He had a stiff smile and an even more stiff mustache.

Throughout dinner her mind continued to try and place him to no avail. Still, he got more and more on her nerves as the evening progressed. He was so cocky!

All he did was smile thickly and laugh uproarously whenever grandfather said _anything._He would agree, hands down, to any one of the arguments Marius or grandfather presented. Now, Cosette wasn't one for politics, but she could tell that Marius and grandfather were arguing with each other, and Theodole was agreeing with them both.

It went such as this:

Grandfather would say, "They were brutes, I tell you! Violent, rash beasts!"

Theodole would respond, "Right, you are, right you are!"

Marius would give them both withering looks, and retort with, "I _ask _you. They changed everything about our country- everything! For the better! The real brutes were the ones crushing us down into their elitist, nobility ruled monarchy!"

And he would only recieve a, "Oh, how true!" From Theodole, looking jolly and excited to be discussing politics. Actually, Cosette thought he looked rather stupid. When they moved back into the parlor following dinner, he _strutted _there. Honestly! It was maybe twenty feet.

Then it hit her- the strutting, the smiling, the cockiness... he was the lancer outside her gate! Instantly she colored, remembering her little infatuation with him. Well, really it couldn't even be called that, could it?

Yes, she had come out of the house at the same time every day for three weeks to see him. But that meant nothing...

Oh! How embarrassing! She hoped he didn't remember. Not that he would say anything, of course not- that would be vastly inappropriate. But just the thought that he might remember was terrifying enough. She was horrified at the fact that at one time, she had held even an ounce of esteem for this bumbling fool.

Meanwhile, Aunt Gillenormond sat smugly, beaming at him as though he was the smartest boy in the world. Marius was growing red and he tried, and failed, to engage Theodole in a real discussion, and began to notice that his cousin was not even listening to what he had to say. He was just agreeing loudly, and laughing as though someone was telling a joke. Grandfather had given up.

While this argument between the two cousins was going on, Grandfather struggled to his feet. "I am ninety-two years old," he informed his family, grasping their attention. "I believe I deserve to choose how to spend my evenings, now that there was precious few of them left. So I choose not to spend them with morons." He nodded at Theodole in a grumpy fashion. "Goodnight."

And he left.

A hysterical giggle escaped Cosette, earning her a glare from Aunt Gillenormond and a smile from Marius.

"You'll have to excuse him. He's..." but she had no polite way of finishing that sentence. She excused herself shortly afterwards and went into an empty room so she could laugh. Then she thanked the lord that nothing had ever come of her admiration for him, for he was a sheer idiot.


	14. Stale

**Looooooong chapter. :)**

* * *

Title: Stale  
Summary: Marius and Cosette tiff and Marius has a birthday with a present he does not agree with- dramatic  
World: Book

"I think it will be a boy," Marius said one night in October of 1835, resting a hand over Cosette's rounded belly, swollen with their second child. She was nearly seven months pregnant.

She grinned. "I don't know... how are you so sure?"

He rested his head _very_ lightly against her stomach, pressing his ear against her for a long time. "I just think so," he said a few moments later. "Either way, the baby will be bigger than Marie- you looked this way when you were nine months pregnant with her."

"That's good," Cosette mused. "She was so tiny. Too little!"

She smiled at him again, and he laid down beside her on their bed, leaning over to kiss her. She pulled away after a minute, a gleeful expression on her face.

"Guess what day is tomorrow?"

"No!" he protested. "No, no_, no_!"

"I don't know why you're so upset about this!" she said, laughing.

"I hate attention. You _know _I hate attention- just because it's my birthday does not mean that fact will change."

"But you're turning twenty-five. That's rather important, I think. And don't worry, I did not invite anyone to celebrate- dinner tomorrow will just be family. Still, I don't see why _I_ cannot be allowed to celebrate with you."

He groaned. "Because I said so. I hate it. For two years now you've gone overboard, with presents and music and guests, I don't want it again, Cosette!" This time he sounded stern, not simply exasperated.

"Fine," she relented. "I already promised, no guests."

"Or music."

"Or music," she agreed, and then added before he could protest, "or gifts. But I can't promise not to wish you a happy birthday... and Marie knows it's your birthday, who knows what she'll say to you tomorrow..."

"She couldn't say too much- she has about twenty words she knows," Marius said, but with a soft edge to his voice.

"How do you know I haven't taught her to wish you a happy birthday?-"

"If you did, I'll just-"

He was so grumpy that it made Cosette laugh loudly. "Oh, don't you _worry! _I've kept my promises. No pomp and circumstance this year."

"Thank you," he said, and then gave a her a tired smile. They blew out the candles, and Cosette nestled into the best sleeping position she could find- not a very comfortable one, though, due to her stomach intruding on the space.

But she couldn't sleep. Being pregnant, she missed out on a lot of things. That irked her- she even missed lifting something heavy, for Cosette was not one who enjoyed having someone constantly look after her, doing work for her. But several other things that were more important to her had become difficult lately.

"Marius," she whispered, reaching over to grasp his hand.

"Mm-hm?" he said, sounding sleepy.

_Should I say something?_ she wondered. _He sounds tired... But I really want to bring it up. I bet he'll wake as soon as I mention it._

"Do you know what I'm thinking of? You know what we haven't done in awhile? About two and a half weeks, actually?"

"Yes," he said a little too quickly. She smiled, knowing she'd been right- he perked up right away. "I know exactly. But I understand- you've been tired. Don't worry- I know it's not easy, having another person to carry around with you."

She smiled. "You're sweet. But I am sorry- it's not that I haven't wanted to..."

"I know," he repeated. "You don't have to explain..."

"No," she said. "I mean, I _have _been tired, but tonight... well I'm not so tired tonight..."

_Oh,_ he thought. _Of course. I'm so daft sometimes._ But the problem was, tonight _he_ was tired. The night before, he hadn't gotten to sleep until past midnight, for he was busy with a case and doing lots of reading. The case he was working on had him up most nights until quite late- it dealt with the misplacement of over a million francs, which were signed over to the wrong company in what Marius was trying to prove was a plot to steal the money. The stakes were high and when he wasn't working on his argument he was worrying about what would happen if he lost.

After he'd finished working for the night, he'd gone to sleep. He'd scarcely been resting for two hours when Cosette had woken him up at three in the morning, hungry.

"I'm sorry," she must have said a thousand times. "I just really want some hot chocolate... Oh- and some bread. Oh, goodness, I'm sorry I woke you. With some ham- and brie. Oh, do we have brie in the kitchen? I'm _sorry! _I'll go get it myself-"

"No, no it's alright," he grumbled, getting out of bed and trying not to say anything rude.

He didn't get back to sleep until nearly four, and was roused early as he usually was by Cosette, the dog, and Marie. Despite the fact that he loved them, he did not necessarily want to see them at seven in the morning after a night of very little sleep.

Anyway, tonight, of all nights, would be a night he would be willing to just go to sleep. He was not in the best of moods, just _knew_ Cosette was going to be too nice to him the next day, and the bed was so comfortable...

Still. He wasn't going to be stupid. He knew that tonight might be their very last chance to make love for at least three months- about two until the baby was born, where she would continue to get bigger and more tired- and then at least another one afterwards while she recovered. So this was a precious commodity.

He turned over and relented- well, not so much relented to her as relented to ignoring his fatigue- and stroked her hair lightly, moving his fingers over her dark shape so he could find her lips. Searching, he kissed her neck, jaw, and chin before finding them.

It was a well practiced dance, but they had to adapt to the several more inches of space between them provided by the baby. At first it was fine, just holding each other kissing, touching. But then things got more and more complicated. They had to keep moving, and adjusting, and both of them said "ouch" a few too many times, and nothing good was happening to counter the discomfort. Marius was starting to really feel his fatigue again, once the initial excitement about finally sleeping with his wife again wore off- especially since they really weren't sleeping together so much as bumping elbows and hurting themselves.

"This isn't going to work..." he murmured against her lips after they tried several different positions. Either they couldn't get close enough, or Cosette's back was hurting because of the extra weight on it, or they were extremely uncomfortable.

"No- I'm sure we can work something out," she murmured, and moved once more.

He sighed, really frustrated now. It was obvious it wasn't going to happen! Was she just trying to make him happy or something silly? He'd rather just go to sleep... but now she'd gotten him from his relaxed state, gotten them both awake and excited, and nothing was to happen from it.

The stress from the past few weeks was driving him to his breaking point. Aside from the pressure to be the perfect father to not one but two children- a prospect which he enjoyed but nonetheless presented a challenge- along with controlling the household and defending this case, he was secretly scared out of his wits. There were few things he could not talk to Cosette about, but here was one of them: as the pregnancy was drawing to a close and childbirth was drawing nearer, Marius was growing more and more frightened. He knew how many women had died from it, and how likely it was for her... for her to...

He couldn't even think of it, but it was a horror that kept him up in the middle of the night, worrying. Just because she'd already given birth to one child did not mean this birth would be easy. If she died, where would he be? Nowhere- his life would be blackness. And of course he did not mention this to her- why scare her too? He was frightened enough for the both of them. For now, all he wanted was sleep. He didn't need the pressure to stay up half the night trying to find a way around their new complications in order to please his wife, when he knew how difficult it would be.

"Here- maybe like..." she moved once more. "No, not like that- it hurts-"

"Just stop," he said curtly, exhausted and not in a good mood at all. He put his hands under her knees and gently, but without any kind of warmth either, pushed her from his lap and to the other side of the bed. "Just forget it."

"Marius-"

"Stop!" he snapped, just wanting to go back to sleep. "Just _go to sleep._ I'm tired, alright? You're just too far along, we can't do anything about it..."

"We could-"

"No we can't. Goodnight," he finished, and turned over, knowing full well he was being quite the prick. Still, he was too tired and far too annoyed to care.

Cosette sat back in bed, confused and hurt, before glaring at him in the darkness and turning over in a huff to go to sleep.

* * *

The next morning when Cosette awoke, she decided to let the little spat go. They'd had little arguments before, and it usually worked best when the one who'd offended apologized and the offended one accepted the apology. The conflict resolved within a few hours and they were back to normal. Those fights generally happened when one was overly tired, stressed, or upset about something else- something she knew both of them were. They were both tired, both stressed, and Marius had been under a lot of pressure lately with work and in the family. She allotted him some slack.

When Marius awoke, he really hoped Cosette was angry with him. He'd slept well, and had perfect hindsight of his selfish and immature behavior the night before. If she was angry, he'd get the punishment he needed and could ask for her forgiveness. But when he opened his eyes, he saw her smiling face.

"Happy birthday!" she cried, grinning sunnily.

He clouded over instantly. How could she be this happy? He had been awful the night before, and she was perfectly nice to him the next day. Was she really that perfect, that she never held a grudge? And moreover, he did not _deserve _her kindness, and he felt resentful of her for offering it to him. Couldn't she see he was a horrible person?

"I told you not to wish me happy birthday," he grumbled, and went out of the room.

Cosette's face fell, and so did her shoulders. Hurt went through her, wondering what on earth she'd done wrong.

* * *

Marius felt ghastly about his treatment of Cosette about a minute after he left the room. But she avoided him for the remainder of the morning, eating breakfast in the nursery. At eleven, he found her in the library.

He knocked on the door and she looked up from her book, expressionless.

He walked into the room and stood their, expecting her to say something but realizing he would have to do the talking this time.

"I'm sorry," he began. "I was being completely horrible- I've been stressed and I was taking it out on you. You don't deserve that."

"Thank you. I accept your apology," she said curtly.

"You can hit me if you like," he said, trying to make her smile. She smiled slightly, but did not look very amused.

"You've never acted like that before, never," she shot at him. "You were hurtful."

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry. Like I said..."

"I understand," she said with another small smile. Still, when he left the room, both of them felt like this was not resolved.

Cosette herself was wondering whether all of this was sparked because they had not been able to make love properly- surely he would have mentioned it? And if it was really such a problem, why would he have been so understanding earlier? 'You've been tired, Cosette' 'Don't worry, Cosette'- obviously if he was upset, he should have mentioned something!

Still, she kept his birthday low-key, but ordered his favorite dessert for after dinner- vanilla cake with thick butter cream frosting espresso.

He found her before dinner and surprised her, wrapping his arms about her waist from behind and planted a kiss on her neck. She smiled, thinking that maybe any problem they'd had was completely over.

Dinner went well, and he was polite in receiving the 'happy birthdays.' When it came time for dessert, Aunt Gillenormond excused herself and Cosette left the room, saying she needed to get the cake.

"I've been meaning to ask you something, Grandfather," she heard Marius say before she rounded the corner and entered the kitchen.

She checked over the dessert that she herself had helped make, and when she finally declared it perfect, she lifted the heavy cake plate and pushed the swinging door out of the kitchen open with her hip.

She heard grandfather's voice in the dining room and stopped walking where she was just out of sight.

"-only natural, it's been almost three years and you've been faithful, I see, but I'd expect your interest to wane a bit. Just find someone else, someone fun- of course you'll still care for her, she's lovely... but it's nice to have someone on the side, to change the pace..."

Cosette's blood ran cold, and she closed her eyes. But grandfather continued.

"A mistress is common- almost every man in your class has one, you shouldn't worry about it. I imagine lately, Cosette hasn't been able to give you any real attention- and you must remember. I'm sure after Marie was born, she had scarcely any time for you..."

Cosette remembered. She'd been exhausted every night for about two months, wanting nothing more than sleep and to care for her daughter. She'd definitely put Marius aside.

"You know that will happen again with this next child, and I'm just saying you should be prepared-"

Cosette stopped listening then, set the cake on the table right outside the door to the room, and ran out, through the kitchen and then upstairs through the back stairs.

When she was far enough away, she let out a mangled sob, not sure how to even manage her thoughts.

She righted herself and walked slowly into the bedroom she shared with Marius, closing the door and then stripping off her heavy gown and all else, until she was clothed in just her chemise. She took her hair down until it hung loose about her face, and then she crumpled, wrapping her arms around herself as she cried.

Right then, she wanted to hold someone, someone who loved her. She thought of Marie, but a glance in the mirror told Cosette that seeing her daughter right then was not an option. She looked wretched and she did not want to frighten her little girl. A scratch at the door provided her solution- Bijou, her little white dog who had been a gift from Marius.

She let him into the room, and she picked him up in her arms, hugging his warm fuzzy body to her chest and letting out another cruel sob.

So that was it. Marius had grown tired of her, and was going to stray. There was nothing she could do. Cosette opened the door to their closet and found the thick woolen sweater Marius had worn the day before that was folded on top of a dresser, and slipped it on over her chemise, feeling its warmth and smelling his aftershave, lingering in the fabric. It was almost like he was holding her.

But would he ever hold her again, the way he used to? Even if he did, Cosette knew she would not be able to forget the fact that he held other women, too... whispered things... kissed them... _Touching_ them... The thought was maddening, and she would easily go insane if she continued to entertain those thoughts.

She wanted to be sick, she felt dizzy. She sat down on the floor of the closet and shut the door, encasing herself in blackness with Bijou in her lap. Carefully, she tugged the fabric of the sweater and her chemise up until the mound of her stomach was out, and she rested her hands atop her baby.

"He'll love you," she whispered to him or her. "I know it- he already does. He _has_ to love you. He won't grow tired of you, even if he's tired of me. And don't worry... I'll always love you. I promise... we'll stay together," she whispered, sobs and tears interrupting her words.

She'd never felt so horrible. Not after her father died, not even when she and Marius had argued before. This was a feeling all its own- rejection from him, jealousy, all consuming, sharp like a knife... she could taste the harshness in her mouth like iron, or blood. Imagining him with someone else... she felt a cold hand closing over her throat. Her breath caught and she crumpled into herself again.

Then she screamed, their clothes muffling the sounds, and angrily hit the curtain of her dresses hanging beside her. She would be expected not to complain, and had no opportunity to say anything. It would not be her place to tell him not to do that- he was a man and she was his wife and he was expected to take mistresses. For her to protest would be unheard of and out of order.

She knew some women took lovers, but she knew she never could. Not after loving Marius. And until she'd heard it with her own ears, she wouldn't have believed Marius would have ever strayed... he'd always talked down of men who slept with other women, always saying infidelity was evil and poisoned a family.

"Cosette?" She shuddered, silencing her cried instantly as she heard Marius' voice calling her from the stairwell. "Cosette!"

He was closer now, and she heard his footsteps outside the bedroom door. He opened it, and she was silent from inside the closet, feeling childish for hiding from him, but knowing she could not come out yet. Not until she had pulled herself together.

"Are you in here?" he called. "No," she heard him mutter to himself. "Don't be stupid, Marius- she's obviously not in here, or you'd see her..."

She almost cracked a smile, hearing him talk to himself- only she couldn't think of anything but how he did not love her like he used to. She felt grief instead of humor.

She held her breath, waiting for him to leave, when Bijou jumped from her lap and pawed at the door, hearing his master's voice.

"No!" Cosette breathed, but he let out a shrill bark.

"What?" Marius asked, opening the door and looking down, not seeing Cosette at first. "What are you doing in here?"

Then the door opened wider and the light from the room fell on Cosette as Bijou escape through Marius' legs and ran out the bedroom door and into the hallway.

"There you are," he said. "I've been looking all over for you- what are you doing in there?"

She stood up, hiding her face and wishing she wasn't dressed as she was, and pushed past him.

"I think there's something wrong with Bijou- he has this little patch on his leg without fur on it, I'm worried he might have an infection-"

"Cosette," Marius said, catching her by the elbow and pulling her to look at him. She averted her gaze so he couldn't see how puffy her eyes were, and because it hurt to much to look at him. "Oh God..."

"I think I'm going to pick the apples from the tree tomorrow," she blabbered on, knowing full well she sounded like an idiot but not wanting to face the topic.

"You overheard what Grandfather was saying, didn't you?"

"-they're ripe and I don't want them to go bad-"

"Cosette!" Marius interrupted.

She looked at him. "_Yes! _I did! And don't you dare ask me why I'm upset, because you should know full well why I'd be upset about this- and I know I can't stop you, but you cannot expect me not to be hurt by this, you know me too well... Were you ever going to tell me, or would you have just gone behind my back? Don't answer that!"

She turned around just so she wouldn't have to look at him, and wiped the tears from her eyes, feeling a lump in her throat and her breath catching as her sobs threatened to become a tantrum to rival her sixteen month old's.

"Hey!" he said, putting his hand on her shoulders. She shrugged them off. "Don't..."

"Don't _what?_" she asked, flipping around. "Like I said, I know there's nothing I can say that will make a difference, but you can't imagine that this wouldn't hurt me..."

"Cosette. Listen to me," he said. "Sit down, please."

"I know we've been fighting and we haven't been able to sleep together and I know that after the baby's born, I'll be busy left and right, but really... it still hurts-"

"Sit," he said, and she sat on the loveseat they had. He kneeled in front of her, taking one of her hands and kissing her fingers. "You heard... how much?"

"I heard Grandfather saying how you... how you..."

"Shh," he said as she started to sob again. "Relax. Listen to me. You heard what Grandfather said, about me... getting tired of you, didn't you?" he said, his voice darkening. She nodded. "And then you left." She nodded again. "You missed the end of that conversation... where I interrupted him and told him if he brought it up again I'd take you and Marie and move out of the house. And that if he breathed a word of this to you, I'd do the same. Only... you heard anyway. I knew when you didn't come back in after getting dessert."

She was very still. "He... what?"

"He was giving me his advice, from an old royalist who knows nothing about us. He never understood us, darling, not from the very beginning when I asked him if I could marry you. He only knows himself and his own selfish needs. Cosette- how many times have I told you I love you? And I know we fought last night, but one fight doesn't mean I don't love you anymore!"

"I know that!" she said. "I just thought... you might still love me, but want someone else too..."

"Never," he promised. "You're everything... I'd have to be a fool to want anything else, because I have everything here," he said, his hands still on her shoulders.

"It's not true?" she asked, looking him right in the eye. "You're promising me that you disregarded everything grandfather said?"

"I don't break me word, Cosette. I never have, not once... and I would not break our vows," he ran a finger over her wedding ring. "And you'll see. I'll still sleep beside you every night, be here with you every day. You'll _know_ I've kept my word."

"I believe you," she said, for she did. The solemnity in his voice could not be doubted. She was right to have judged his character that way- he was not one to stray.

"Don't listen to anything that old man has to say. He's sexist and womanizing and always has been, and won't change."

"So, you're not going anywhere?"

"No!" he said, laughing and running his hands down her waist. "God, I couldn't."

"Just... hold me please," she said, still tearful, and she pulled him close.

"Want to go to bed now?" he said gently.

She nodded, smiling, and he handed her his handkerchief and she wiped her tears away.

"I can't believe you'd even..." he shook his head as they got into bed. "I wish you'd stayed a little longer. You would have heard me defend your honor. You probably would have enjoyed it."

She laughed weakly, and snuggled close to him.

"If it helps..." he murmured, his lips against her ear. "I thought of a way to finish what we started last night, despite the baby..."

"Did you?" she asked inquisitively.

* * *

Twenty-five minutes earlier

"Grandfather... I've been meaning to ask you. From a business standpoint, with this case I'm fighting, I've been thinking. I'm not sure if the man in charge of the company even knew the checks were fraud-"

"For goodness sakes, Marius," Grandfather said. "Stop discussing business at the dinner table! I've been meaning to ask _you_ something. You're turning twenty-five today."

Marius rolled his eyes.

"You are of age, officially a man in the eyes of the law. And I think it's high time you and I had a talk. I know you might think I'm silly, but I've been married twice, and I know how women work. I know once they start having children and become mothers, something in them changes. They go from the women you knew and fell in love with, to this strange nurturing creature who you don't even know."

Marius gave him a searching look.

"They seem to want to take care of everything, and have very little time for their husbands. Both during the day and at night... if you know what I mean. In the bedroom, they're never the same again, I tell you. Though of course you know. She was once so beautiful and enticing and maybe even free-spirited, but now she's structured and thoughtful and only wants to have more children. And it can take its toll. Now this boredom you're starting to feel with Cosette is only natural, it's been almost three years and you've been faithful, I see, but I'd expect your interest to wane a bit. Just find someone else, someone fun- of course you'll still care for her, she's lovely... but it's nice to have someone on the side, to change the pace. Something fresh is needed! A mistress is common- almost every man in your class has one, you shouldn't worry about it. I imagine lately, Cosette hasn't been able to give you any real attention- and you must remember. I'm sure after Marie was born, she had scarcely any time for you. You know that will happen again with this next child, and I'm just saying you should be prepared-"

"Are you really suggesting what I think you are?" Marius said coldly. "You tried this once before- don't you remember? When I asked to marry Cosette, and you suggested I just _sleep_ with her and get it _out of my system?_"

"Now, Marius-"

"No!" he said. "I will not discuss this with you. You are insinuating that I am bored with my wife and have no respect at all for her, except when she gives me all of her attention. And you're blaming my _children_ for any problems I have with her. You are _not_ to insult my children, my family!"

"I'm not blaming them-"

"No?" he asked, laughing sarcastically. "Well, good! Because if you insult any of them- Cosette, Marie, the new baby- you insult me. Don't try to understand my family-"

"Our family, Marius! I am your grandfather!"

"But you aren't Marie's father or Cosette's husband," he retorted. "And I don't want to live my life the way you lived yours. If Marie marries someone I don't like, I sure as well won't steal her child away from his father, like you did. That was cruel."

"Marius!" Grandfather exclaimed.

"It was!" he raged. "And let me tell you one thing- if you ever insult them again, we will find a new home. We're only here for convenience's sake and can find another place within days. And if you _dare_ breathe a word to Cosette..."

"I won't, I promise! I'm sorry!" the old man stuttered, not expecting his grandson to fly off this way. The boy was so high strung, so morally upright. Stiff.

"Now let's stop this discussion before Cosette comes back," Marius said bitterly.

But Cosette didn't come back. After a minute or so, Marius looked out into the hallway, where he found a vanilla cake standing on the table next to the door to the dining room, but no Cosette.

He swore angrily.

* * *

**COMMENTS?**


	15. Parted

**Title: Goodbye  
Summary: They are finally parted  
World: either**

It was 1883, and Marius Pontmercy had just turned seventy-two. For a few years now, he'd had arthritic knees. He still had a full head of hair (lots of it was still black, too- only a few streaks of silver), and good eyesight. But his back hurt him, he could only eat weak foods and no longer could stomach alcohol. He'd gotten old, and he did not like to think about it. Cosette on the other hand, was the picture of health. She was strong, could stand straight without issue, and enjoyed sweets and champagne as much as always. The only difference was that her hair was brilliantly white.

Marius joked with her once about the grey streaks in his hair compared to the snow-white color of her head. "It's the type of soul you have. When you get old, you can't hide it anymore. The purer, kinder soul you have, the whiter your hair turns. But these grey streaks... I suppose I'm just undecided and bad."

His bones bothered him and he often retired early. He could not lift his grandchildren or get down on the floor to play with them, settling for watching them from a distance. He did not move quickly anymore. His favorite thing to do was sit calmly next to a lamp and read in quiet. Cosette, on the other hand, was still able to do most of the things she always loved to. She could not garden for a long time, but walks among the flowers were not beyond her. Their grandchildren adored her, and she adored them right back. She always said the little ones were what kept her healthy for such a long time.

"I don't know what I'd do without them," she explained. "They keep me young."

Now that Marius' age was catching up with him, he had to devote some time to thinking about death. Because his body prohibited him from doing anything strenuous, he had lots of time free anyway. He organized his will and his thoughts, and had some conversations about it with Cosette. She pooh-poohed him, thinking him cynical and morbid. But he didn't mind the thought of death- resting completely forever. See, he'd accomplished everything he'd wanted to in his lifetime. He'd had an incredibly happy life, once he'd settled down to it. In his youth he'd insisted on being miserable, but after his marriage and the tumult with Jean Valjean, he'd settled more and decided to be happy with what he had, for he had a lot.

His children were good people, his grandchildren were bright and sweet. He had Cosette, and so he had everything.

"Good night," he said to Cosette as she rubbed oil into her hands. It was winter and her skin was dry and red.

"Goodnight, darling," she said, and laid down in bed. Marius had to take a few moments, resting between sitting down on the bed, and then taking his time before he could bring his legs up to the bed, and then finally laying down. His joints protested, but when he was under the covers he felt much better. Cosette reached over and patted his hand, and then she blew out the candles.

He was woken later, and it was pitch black. He had no idea what time it was or what had woken him- but he slept lightly now and often did not sleep through the night.

"Oh!" Marius heard Cosette whimper, sounding pained.

"Cosette?" he asked, trying to find a match to light a candle.

"My head..." he heard her whimper. "I..."

Then she was silent and still. Heart pounding, Marius reached over and patted her shoulder. "Cosette? Cosette, what's the matter?"

She did not answer. Nor did she resist or move when he shook her.

"Cosette," he said, his voice hoarse and desperation creeping into his mind. "Darling... darling wake up!"

She did not wake.

"Help!" he cried. "_Help!"_

In a few minutes, after yelling and growing more and more terrified, a young servant entered the room, carrying a candle. He lit the candles near the bed, and tried to calm Marius down, but it was no use. His wife lay pale, her face twisted in pain, her snow-white hair spread across the pillows, dead.

"Cosette..." Marius said, brushing the hair from her face and tears falling from his eyes. "Cosette... you can;t be gone, you can't be... be... What am I to do without you? How am I to live without you?

The servants sent for his children, but several of them lived out of the city. His son Jean lived nearby, though, and arrived within the hour, looking panicking and sad, but he was more apt to take control than Marius.

"Father," Jean said, helping Marius from his bed and aiding his father in putting on a dressing gown and a blanket to keep him warm. "It's going to be alright-"

"No, it's not," Marius said, not able to look at his son. "You don't understand... She can't have left like this! She was healthy, perfect. There's some mistake!"

Jean sat his father down and someone brought Marius tea, but it was not drunk. The old man was crying still, and yelling, and he had to be removed from the room when Cosette's body was being relocated. A doctor was called- she'd had a hemorrhage and had died suddenly. She'd probably only felt pain for a few seconds, and when she'd called to Marius it was already too late.

No one slept that night. Jean stayed with his father, sitting up with the old man, watching as his eyes drifted in and out of focus, and Jean knew his father was not in this world. His thoughts were far away, reliving times when his mother was alive and well and with him. In the morning, when the sun was breaking over the horizon and causing a glow to seep through the curtains, Marius finally spoke.

"I was supposed to go first," he said, his voice weak with age and grief. Suddenly he looked not seventy-two, but one hundred years old. "She was healthy, everyone loved her more than they loved me."

"Father-" Jean protested.

Marius held up a hand. "I am not complaining. They should have loved her more. She deserved it, she loved the world more than I did. She should not have had to leave it yet... She is an angel." Marius took his head in his hands and sobbed.

"I know that," Jean said. His mother had been the best woman he'd ever known. Always patient and loving and kind to him and to everyone she knew. "She's where she should be, father."

"With God," Marius added, not sure whether he agreed or not. "She's with God."

* * *

**Aww. I hope you all like it... :'(**

**I also want to pass on that I think you should read my story "At the Barricade." I editted it and I think people who like this would like that story- plus EPONINE is in it! Yay!**


	16. Rings

**Title: Rings  
Summary: Something Nontraditional  
World: Book**

Cosette rode to the house in the Marais with her father, the fiacre clunking along on the cobblestones. There snow on the ground, the fresh days of January bitterly cold and gray. But Cosette's mood was elevated and springlike, happy to be headed where she was headed. When they arrived, her cloak was taken and Marius met them, kissing her hand and making her blush.

"I want to show you something," he said to her immediately. He led her by the hand into the sitting room, and her father tagged along behind them. Cosette felt guilty for thinking it, but she rather hoped grandfather would come soon and distract her father so she could talk freely to Marius. She wished he wasn't so protective.

They sat down and Marius reached into his pocket.

"My grandfather gave this to me yesterday," he said, pulling out a small black box. "I didn't think he would seeing as he positively hated my father, but he did..."

Marius opened the box. An elegant gold band was sitting inside on the velvet. It looked old- not quite shining like new gold, but beautiful and classic.

"It was my mother's wedding ring. My father had it made for her," Marius explained.

"It's lovely," Cosette said.

"It's yours," Marius told her. "If you want it," he said, backtracking a little. "I'll have it cleaned and refinished and fitted for you..."

He trailed off, not really able to say why this was important to him. But it was something that tied Cosette and his father together, and to him, that was very meaningful.

"Otherwise-"

"No," Cosette interrupted. "Thank you. I adore it," she said, feeling touched. "I would be honored to wear it."

Marius beamed. "Then why don't you try it on?" he said, excitement brimming over.

She reached for it, but he tugged the box away.

"Let me."

She blushed again and tried not to look at her father, who was silent through the entire affair. She ignored him after that- her moment was far too wonderful to spoil on awkwardness. She would not be made to feel ashamed.

He picked up the ring and her left hand, and smiled at her as he slipped the ring onto her finger. Cosette was having trouble breathing, and she knew that if her father wasn't there, she would have leaned forward and kissed Marius then. She tried not to resent him for that.

"It's a little big," Marius said, able to spin the ring around her finger. "What do you think?"

"Well, I'm going to have to wear it for a long time," she said with another smile, prompting the same reaction from him. Their happy feelings were contagious most of the time. "I think it's perfect."

"I wanted to ask you something else," he said. "Or tell you. I want to wear a ring as well."

Cosette blinked. "But do men usually wear rings?"

"Some do," Marius said. "Not everyone. But I want to wear one, for you. I said the vows, too, and I want to be just as much your husband and you'll be my wife."

Cosette grew red again, but this time on the words 'my wife.' She was sure she was ready to marry Marius, but she was not quite ready to be someone's wife. She still felt very young most of the time. But what he was saying- how could she not love him all the more?

Cosette sometimes wished she had a woman friend to talk with, because what Marius had just said was worth a good conversation with another lady.

"I love you," she said. "And thank you."

He took both her hands in his own and drew them up to his cheeks, kissing her palm. "Six weeks, Cosette," he said with a smile.

She was shining with happiness. Neither of them noticed, as they were wrapped up in their own moment of happiness, that Jean Valjean had turned pale behind them. A tear ran down the old man's cheek as he watched the joyous scene.


	17. Desire

**Title: Desire  
Summary: A struggle between respect and nature  
World: Book**

"Goodnight," he said to Cosette. Her father was turned away, so he swiftly leaned down and brushed his lips to hers before anyone could notice. Her cheeks flushed and they both smiled. "Sleep well."

"Have sweet dreams," she whispered, and then left with her father for the evening.

Marius went upstairs and undressed, and then stayed up for a few hours reading. When he finally blew out the candles to sleep, he found his mind was plagued.

Cosette. Cosette, Cosette, Cosette, Cosette...

He was marrying her in two and a half months. An excruciatingly long time. Especially when now more than ever, just seeing her was not enough. She visited every day, but he wanted to see her alone. Sometimes he'd look at her, sitting there only a few feet away but separated as if by a wall- and he would want nothing more than to kiss her until neither of them could breathe any more.

She was really his now. She was his fiancee, and would be his wife soon. She was everything to him, and now the world could see that too. And she was so, so beautiful.

He'd never wanted anything or anyone more in his entire life. Nothing came remotely close to this... desire? Need? Whatever it was he was feeling for Cosette. She possessed every one of his thoughts. He could speak of little else but her, and when he wasn't speaking, he was lost. He would dwell endlessly on the way she breathed, on the way her gaze fell onto things, on the mysterious way she talked. That comment she made earlier- what did she mean, exactly? Did she think of him nearly this much?

And also, he could not take his eyes away from her when she was near. He watched every move she made- the way her face lit up and colored her speech, adding animation to her words. The way her lips moved when she listened, pursing in curiosity, pouting in annoyance, biting her lips in anxiety. The beauty of her eyes, blue and clear, the blush on her cheeks, the white skin of her throat. His mind dwelled on every part of her that his eyes could see.

But it also dwelled on all the parts he could not.

Her hands, clasped in his for so many hours of the day, were in his thoughts quite often. What would it be like to have her touch him? To have her holding onto him as he held her? Her dresses were heavy and long, especially since it was winter. When she was near, he tried to push these thoughts away, for they felt blasphemous... but here, alone in his room, the thoughts occurred again. In time, he would see under her dress. Her shoulders, her arms, her breasts and stomach and thighs... the thought almost made him ill.

He was a man possessed. He could not rest until February 16th, when Cosette would finally be his. He could finally know for sure that no one would ever take her away from him, that the person who so gently took care of his heart would never be swept away from him, as she nearly had in June.

But everything else would be his as well. He saw his love for Cosette as the main prize- his marriage to her was nothing less than meant to happen. God had willed it. He had brought them together in Luxembourg so they could love each other, and since that day, a life together had been destiny. Everything else was just extra.

But what extras!

He fell into a feverish sleep. Feverish because he dreamt of her, and woke frequently throughout the night to find that he was, in fact, alone. He had the usual dreams of her- sweet, almost childish ones. And he had others.

For two days he could not look her straight in the eyes.

He promised himself, on the third day before she arrived, to care for her more than any man had ever cared for his wife before. She would never have to be afraid of him, never have any reason to dread his presence.

But still he felt guilty. He'd never come remotely close to thinking of any real women this way- he was always so embarrassed and nervous that the thought of being with a woman was so distant and far off that his imagination never really got involved. And she wasn't just a woman he knew- she was Cosette. She was an angel, and he was just a stupid man who, by thinking of her this way, was surely going to Hell. And it wrung his heart, the guilt twisting him, to know that she knew nothing of this. She was completely innocent of these thoughts, while he was disrespecting her with his thoughts.

But no matter what he tried to think of, the feelings were still there. So prevalent, in fact, that he began to wonder if they were wrong at all. Why would he be feelings these things for her if he shouldn't?

But he had never thought of her that way before. He'd always been able to control his thoughts and regimen his mind. Cosette had always been sacred to him. Why, now, was she an object of desire? She used to be something fantastic, mythical- too perfect to touch. Now, she was more perfect, because he could touch her. But not now.

Sometimes he caught her looking at him funny. As though her mind was deep in thought about him, and she would blush and look away. How he wondered what was going on in her lovely mind at those times- could she possibly have been thinking about what he so wished she was?

Maybe she felt the same way. Oh, how wonderful that would be!

February 16th could not come soon enough.


	18. Fear

**Title: Fear  
Summary: Cosette encounters something new and frightening  
World: Book**

"So Papa?" Cosette asked, twisting her hands. "Have you thought any more about Monsieur Gillenormond's party?"

He sighed and put down his book. Her father was a very quiet, private man, and she knew she was bothering him with her request. But Monsieur Gillenormond was having his annual Christmas party in a few days, and of course they were invited. And Cosette wanted to go very much- and not just because of Monsieur Gillenormond. It would be one of her very first real social outings, of which she would have many as soon as she was married. She needed to practice! And she would be introduced to everyone as Marius' fiancé, which would be exciting. And not least, she had all these new gowns to wear from Monsieur Gillenormond and nowhere to wear them. This event would be perfect.

"Cosette... I have. I decided you may go."

She beamed.

"But I will not be joining you."

Cosette's face fell slightly- this was unlike him, to let her do something alone.

"I do not wish to go. I shall take you there and pick you up," he informed her.

"Oh," she said. "Why, Papa, don't be silly."

He held up a hand. "Do not fret- I am fine alone. I'll spend the evening reading."

"Well, I shall miss you dearly," she said, and leaned down to kiss his white head. "I shall tell you all about it, and make sure to eat some extra dessert for you."

He gave a quiet smile, and nodded.

* * *

**Three Days Later**

On the morning of the party, Cosette went to the Gillenormond's, as per usual. But she left Marius and her father downstairs and went to find a dress to wear during the evening. She stored all the gifts that Grandfather had given her at the house in the Marais, because she had nowhere to wear them yet and anyway, within two months she'd have to move everything back. So went into a bedroom and opened the wardrobe, and gave little squeal of delight. She knew exactly which gown she wanted to wear- a magnificent sapphire gown sewn entirely of satin, with matching colored lace detailing on the bodice.

She lifted it on the hanger, her arm sagging under its weight, and was going to leave, when she decided she wasn't ready just yet. Setting the beautiful dress on the bed, she spent a good twenty minutes admiring every piece of clothing in the armoire. All those beautiful gowns were hers!

She sighed and collapsed onto the bed, in an ecstasy, thinking of her future. Just beyond reach- two months- was when she would be Madame le Baronne Pontmercy, living in a beautiful home, with beautiful clothes and a beautiful husband who she loved more than she thought any girl (or, as she liked to call herself now, young woman) had ever loved anyone. She sat up, and realized she was laying on the bed in the very room that she and Marius would share when they married. Somehow, that made her blush.

There was something no one was telling her, something they all knew.

Honestly, it seemed odd to her that married couples needed to share a room, especially in a house this large. There were bedrooms enough for at least five more people. Not that she _minded,_ exactly. The thought of sharing something with Marius gave her something of a selfish thrill- that they would have something to call their own, belonged to the two of them only. Once they married, they would be one, a unit. And she had a claim on him.

Her husband. The thought made her stomach shift in excitement.

But the bedroom issue was rather odd, still. There was some secret that everyone in the house knew but her, something that had to do with her marrying Marius. She'd heard snippets of conversation from Toussaint, who was the only one who'd dared to let her tongue slip. Something about men and women, and the wedding night, sharing a bed. She was supposed to do something that night, she knew. And she had no idea what it was.

The thought scared her sometimes- that she'd be put on the spot on the night of February 16th and have no idea what to do. But she pushed the thought away- Marius knew she had no idea what to do. And she trusted him to tell her. Whatever it was, it couldn't be that important, or they'd have told her.

* * *

On the ride back to the Gillenormond's at six, Cosette's father was giving her some directions.

"Now, Cosette," he said, sounding as though he was about to say something important. "Just because I'm not with you tonight does not change anything. Don't do anything you would not do if I was not with you."

"Papa!" she chided. "You know me better than that. What do you expect me to do- start throwing food at the guests? Honestly!"

"That's not what I was worried about. And I can't say it's you who I worry about, either. I'm not quite ready to let you alone with..."

He did not finish, and Cosette felt her protests fall from her lips, dead. Here it was again- Papa not trusting Marius. If Cosette had a cause for vexation, it was this. Well, this and that thing no one was telling her. But more, this. Honestly- she had no idea why her father did not trust Marius. He was more than worthy of trust- he did not smoke or gamble, and scarcely ever drank. He always put her first, and had never done anything that her father disapproved of. He went to church every Sunday and prayed every day, and spent very little money other than on what he needed. He was not selfish or self-indulgent.

Yet she knew her father did not like him. Or, rather, he liked him well enough, but he did not trust him with her. It hurt her, almost like her father was suspicious of her, when he was suspicious of Marius. She took his disapproval to heart. Cosette pressed her lips together.

"Papa," she said quietly. "He is good. You _know_ he is good to me."

"You will understand later, Cosette," he said, and she furrowed her brow. His eyes turned dark, angry over a thought in his head. However, Cosette was still miffed over his comment about Marius. She did not ask him what was wrong.

When she arrived, Nicolette took her cloak and she found Marius. The house was still mostly empty, just decorated festively. The guests would not be arriving for another half an hour, but she wanted to be early.

"Here, come upstairs," Marius said, taking her by the hand. He was in an elated mood, having her in his house, for once without her father. "I bought the gift for grandfather- the one you suggested- you must sign the card."

"Alright," she said, and followed him. They went into his study, which had been converted from the library once Marius had moved back in. Cosette took a seat in the large, comfortable leather chair behind the desk.

"I like this," she said, putting her hands on the armrests. "I feel very manly," she said in a low voice. The coffee- colored mahogany, leather on the chair, dark books on the shelves, thick carpet and fireplace were all very masculine. She laughed- everything she was used to was rather feminine: light colored, gold-leafed, furniture; damask curtains; pretty mirrors with silver detailing; bright carpets. Marius laughed at her remark.

"Well," he joked back as he opened the drawer to the desk and pulled out a small wrapped present. "I suppose you can redecorate... a little. I don't want everything to be lacy and frilly, though."

She was delighted. She opened the card and took the pen Marius handed her, and wrote a short message and signed her name. But they didn't want to leave quite yet.

"We should... wait for the ink to dry," Marius said.

"Yes, yes we should," she agreed.

They got up and then moved to sit on the couch on the other side of the room. He took her hands, and then she realized quite meaningfully that this was the first time they'd been alone, truly alone, for months. Yes, they'd had some moments alone recently, but her father or his grandfather were always in the next room or so, their presence always there.

They were truly alone. And it was different than it had been, back in the rue Plummet. Being inside, well, that changed things, for one. It seemed more private, without the entire heavens above them, gazing down. And now, they'd known each other longer... and she felt different. More... overcome. He affected her differently now, made her blush more, made her heart race. She recalled moments when she'd dreamt of him recently... differently than she ever had before. She spent more time thinking about him holding her, kissing her, touching her than she should. She turned red right there on the couch.

Maybe this was what everyone knew about?

She scooted a little bit away, overcome and embarrassed.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice high.

"Cosette?" he asked, and when she turned her head, he was right next to her, his deep brown eyes looking into hers. Her stomach dropped instinctively, and she thought about how handsome he looked tonight, and the look on his face when she'd greeted him, how beautiful he said she looked in her dress...

She couldn't say which of them started it, but their lips were together. At first they were soft and innocent, but then the kiss changed to something they'd never experimented with before. They'd only shared a few chaste kisses when her father was not looking- this was different.

She liked it.

She felt his hands slide down her sides, causing shocks to run up her body, and then his arms enveloped her as his lips moved against hers. She sighed and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. They leaned back...

_This is amazing,_ she thought. She felt the blood in her heart pounding in her heart and moving in her veins, making her feel more alive than she'd ever been before. She loved his hands on her, making her feel so precious, so beautiful, so... _wanted._

They were laying back on the couch now, reclined...

Suddenly the thought of a bed jumped into her head.

A shared bed, laying together. Like this.

_Men. Women. Wedding night..._

_Oh God..._

She started to understand- _this _was what they were talking about wasn't it? But they shouldn't be doing it yet! And Papa... papa thought Marius would do something to her, without her wanting to...

He kept kissing her, she felt his hands on her back and on her sides, and sensed that there was so much more of her that he wanted to touch, but he was holding back.

He wanted her. She didn't know if that was a good thing- it felt frightening to her, almost like everyone had been lying. Marius... couldn't feel that way. He was like her best friend, only different, kissing her sometimes and calling her beautiful... Not... _wanting _her. The thought of applying that emotion to him felt like... betrayal. But she had felt it, too. She wanted him.

This had to be wrong. If anything felt this good, it must be wrong.

She pushed her hands against his chest anxiously, suddenly needing to breathe and needing to understand. She felt sick.

He pulled back, but she did not look at him. She sat up and put her elbows on her knees, and then buried her face in her hands, covering her eyes so she could not see.

"Cosette!" Marius cried. "Oh, my God... I'm so sorry-"

"No... don't," she said, holding up a hand but not looking at him yet. "Just... please tell me the truth."

"Alright," he said, nervous that she was going to start crying- or had she already started to cry? He could not see her face.

"Is this what... what everyone but me knows about?" she said, sounding scared. "What everyone's been keeping from me?"

At first he didn't understand, but then it dawned on him: she had no idea about any of this, the world of the flesh. Not like he knew so much, but he did know _some._ Suddenly he felt immeasurably guilty for what had just happened- he had just forced himself on her, without her being prepared at all. He scared her.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "Yes. There's more... but yes."

"More?" she asked, and turned to look at him, her eyes wide.

He couldn't bear to tell her how much more there was. "Yes. There's more."

"Why didn't anyone tell me any of this?"

He bit his lip, not having any kind of answer. "Are you alright?"

"I'm... confused," she said. "I can't say that I... didn't..."

She blushed furiously, not knowing how to continue, but pushing on all the same.

"I can't say that it was... bad. It was... I liked it. I love you. But I just feel... overwhelmed."

"Do you trust me?"

She looked him in the eyes, astonished. "Of course!"

"Next time it won't be so scary. You know more. And I can tell you more, if you want. Just, not now," he said. He was fine with telling her more, if it meant she wouldn't be scared. But he needed some time to prepare what to say.

"Alright," she said.

"But, yes. It's true. I love you and I want you the way a man wants a woman. And I want to be with you."

"I do too, Marius... oh, please don't think I don't. I must sound like a silly girl-"

"No-"

A knock sounded at the door then. They both slid apart, embarrassed. Marius answered the door- it was Basque, telling them that guests were beginning to arrive.

Marius helped Cosette up off the couch and kissed her cheek.

"It's going to be fine."

"I know," she said, with a smile.

"Let's go to the party."

* * *

When she left with her father a few hours later, Cosette was in high spirits. The party had been very fun, and people had admired her dress. She had danced with Marius and met dozens of new people. She told her father all the funny things that had happened, and laughed herself silly.

"I wish you could have come," she said to her father. "I know you would have had fun."

Later that night, she tucked herself into her bed and wrote in her diary about the party, and then blew out the candles. When she lay alone in the dark, she allowed her thoughts to drift back to Marius' study, to his lips and his arms, to that couch...

It had happened so fast, and that was what had scared her. But it had not been so bad. It had not been bad at all. In fact... she longed for him to be with her right now, this very minute. And maybe she could learn some more...

She touched her lips with her fingers, and thought about how Marius had said there was more. Probably a lot more. She thought, with a fearful awe, of what those secrets could be. There was so much she didn't know... but for the first time, it did not bother her or scare her. A little modest, yes, somewhat embarrassed, yes, and not ready to discuss it with _anyone..._ but not scared anymore.

Her stomach fluttered. It was all such a mystery, but oh! What a glorious one it was!


	19. A New Family

**Title: A New Family  
Summary: Cosette's transition is comfortable for her, but strained for others  
World: Book**

Marius awoke, and remembered that he would be gone working all day. He dressed, and then went downstairs and ate some breakfast. Then, he poured some coffee and brought some food up on a tray.

He set the food down on the table beside the bed and sat down, kissing Cosette on the cheek. Her hair was fallen in front of her face, loose from slumber, and he brushed it away.

"Cosette," he said softly. She stirred, but kept her eyes closed. He knew she was awake, so he continued. "I have to go to court today."

He really did not want to go. He was tired, it was early, he'd been up late the night before, and he wanted to spend the day with his wife.

He kissed her cheek again. "I won't be home until evening, alright?"

Her eyes opened, finally. "Don't go yet," she said, her voice odd from sleeping deeply.

"I have to," he said, and squeezed her shoulder. "I'll see you tonight."

She pouted. "You woke me up early, and I'm tired..."

"That's all your fault," he teased. "I would have been asleep much earlier, but you had other ideas. Anyway, you don't have to get up yet. I left you breakfast here, but go back to sleep."

She eyed breakfast happily, sitting up. "I love you," she said, though he wasn't sure if she meant him or the food.

He kissed her one more time and stood up. "I'll miss you."

"I hope you win your case," she said. "I'll be thinking of you."

He smiled. "Thank you. I'll see you tonight," he said again, and left.

* * *

His day was long, but not unenjoyable. Court could get tedious and long, but something about that process was interesting to Marius. But at eight o'clock and later then he'd thought, he was in a fiacre on the way home. He was tired and hungry and wanted to get inside his home, see Cosette, eat dinner, and then go to sleep.

When he got out of the fiacre, he saw a man leaving the house. It was an odd hour for a visitor- most were eating at this time, usually one would wait to make a visit. Anyway he didn't think they'd planned on having visitors... He grew suspicious.

But it was Cosette's father. His suspicions evaporated, and he remembered, chiding himself, that he came every night. It was stupid to forget, actually- Marius had no bigger issue in his life than Cosette's father's visits. He'd just never seen the man in the house, not since February 17th. Since then he'd come and gone unceremoniously, stopping by shortly every day to see Cosette.

Marius did not want to talk to him. It would be awkward and uncomfortable. But more than that, Marius resented Monsieur Fauchelevent, this Jean Valjean, for imposing his presence on Cosette. But it seemed that he would have to talk to him, as undesirable as that may be.

"Hello," Valjean said to him. Marius returned the greeting.

They fell silent for a moment.

"You are well, I trust?" Marius said, as a reflex.

"Yes," Valjean said, a lie. "I am. And you?"

"Fine."

"Madame seems happy," Valjean said.

Marius instantly stiffened again. _Madame._ The fact that he wouldn't call Cosette by her name- it was as if he was stressing that fact to Marius! Wasn't it? Or was he just being respectful? Either way, he did not want him talking about Cosette at all.

"I trust she has told you herself," Marius said stiffly. "And she is not lying."

Valjean was perplexed by Monsieur Pontmercy. He had never met anyone colder, anyone more set in his ways.

"No," he said lightly. "She seems very happy."

_Happier with me than you?_ Marius thought jealously. Then he felt ashamed, instantly, as though Cosette would read that thought in his mind. She had loved her father.

Valjean tried to understand Marius- when he'd seen him with Cosette, he'd been warm. He loved her. It was clear she could do no wrong with him, that her word was law. The Marius Cosette talked about was happy, funny, loving, everything that made her happy. The Marius that was talking to him now was cold and cruel.

Marius wanted to know how to get rid of him. He glanced at the house longingly, and then caught a glimpse of someone peering through the curtains beside the front door. Then, it opened. Cosette scampered outside.

"Marius, you are home! And Papa, you are still here!"

Marius beamed at her, and she came over to stand next to him.

"Cosette, darling, it's cold out," Marius said, taking her hand. It was cold- March was never altogether kind, weather-wise. "You should stay inside."

"Pshaw! I am fine," Cosette brushed him off.

Valjean's point was proved: Marius talked softly to her- in fact, his entire demeanor softened. The cold man he'd been moments ago was gone. Obviously he thought Valjean was a threat.

Of course he did. Yes, he was assuming some wrong things, but was he wrong to assume that he, Valjean, was a bad man? No.

He sighed.

"I should go," he said, resigned.

"Oh," Cosette said weakly. "Are you sure you would not want to stay for dinner tonight?"

"No, but thank you very much. Have a good evening, Monsieur," he nodded at Marius. "Madame."

Marius noticed as Cosette made a face when he called her that. Valjean turned away, and Marius put an arm around his wife.

"Come. Let's go inside." He kissed the side of her head, and led her inside. "I missed you very much today."

When Valjean reached the end of their walk, he turned around. He watched Cosette and Marius go inside their home. He could see their silhouettes through the glass of their door as Cosette put her arms around Marius and kissed him, and then they disappeared. They reappeared a moment later in the living room windows through a gap in the curtains. Valjean watched, knowing he should turn away and it was not proper to look through a person's windows... But he was seeing Cosette's new life.

They sat on a couch right next to the window, the backs to Valjean. Cosette turned sideways, looking at Marius, and he could see her profile, chattering happily. He could see Marius' profile, a lazy smile on his face as he listened to Cosette talk. Valjean knew that smile well- he'd worn it many a time. He could almost hear the things she was saying- "I saw the first bloom in the garden today." "The servants were arguing this afternoon, can you believe it?" "We're dining later tonight, we saved it for you." "I practiced piano today... oh you must tell me all about your day, I must hear everything!"

Valjean smiled, happy that she was happy. And she so obviously was. He watched again, with an odd feeling in his chest, as Marius leaned over and kissed her. It did not make him angry anymore, to see them together... just lonely.

And he stood out in the cold as he watched them get up and go into their dining room, which did not face the street. From an outsider on the street such as him, the house seemed empty. Valjean stood and watched, and then turned to leave. He would go home alone, while Cosette ate happily with her family.

* * *

**Reviews, please? I have another chapter coming soon!**


	20. In which Marius learns a bit about women

**Title: Feminine Problems  
Summary: Cosette finally has an answer for Marius  
World: Either**

Cosette awoke in the morning two weeks after she and Marius had married, and discovered that something had arrived for her. She sighed and went into the bathroom, glad that she had escaped it for at least two weeks- she was not always regular, and how awful it would have been had it come two weeks ago!

She went about her day as usual, feeling very tired. She was not grumpy, but feeling rather lonesome. She felt rather needy and cuddly that day.

That night, she readied herself for bed and climbed in next to Marius, who was reading. Rather, she climbed almost _on _him- she wrapped her arms around his neck and settled herself essentially on top of him.

"Oof," he grunted, when she jumped into bed and settled herself that way. "Er... comfortable?"

"Mm-hmm," she said distantly.

"Alright then," he said, not wanting to disturb her. "Do you mind if I leave the light on for a few more minutes?"

"Not at all," she said.

He still didn't know what was acceptable and what wasn't. Especially in bed- some people got very touchy about their bedtime routines, or so he heard. Should he always let her get ready for bed first? Did he have to wait for her to retire every night? By the same token, if she was ready to go to sleep and he wasn't, did he have to go to bed? How heavy of a sleeper was she? And, perhaps most importantly, when could and couldn't they... well...

He'd learned very little about her sleeping habits recently, other than the fact that she talked in her sleep, which as _hugely_ entertaining and almost led him to stay up all night a week ago, once he'd discovered it. It felt invasive, so he tried to tune her out.

He tried to go back to his book, but Cosette was being rather distracting. She was caressing his cheek- caressing!- and kissing his neck, under the chin.

_Well, this sounds more fun than my book,_ he thought, and decided to join in.

She giggled when he put his book down and blew out the candles, but quickly realized that this hadn't been a good thing to start. They couldn't finish it, since she was on her time. She felt guilty, since she'd obviously started things, so she took it upon herself to stop things before they went to a territory when it would be cruel to halt.

"Marius," she said, and pushed against him. "Er... not tonight, alright darling?"

"Oh," he said, sounding surprised. And rightly so, considering this was rather out-of-character for her. "Right. Of course."

He moved away from her and lay down, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep. He wasn't exactly tired- it was barely ten o'clock- but when he saw Cosette was getting ready for bed, he joined her, not wanting to disturb her if she fell asleep without him. But now the lights were off and he couldn't just light a candle could he?

And further- well, he was trying not to think too much about what had just happened, but the thoughts came all the same. That _was_ odd, wasn't it? She had _definitely_ started things, and then as quickly as they started, she stopped them. So he shouldn't feel bad, should he? Still, he felt like he had been corrupting her or something.

"Cosette?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"May I ask... why?" he said, trying to keep his tone light. "You're not angry with me, I hope?"

"Oh! No, no, no," she said warmly, feeling very guilty now. She cringed in the dark, feeling very silly. "But see... well... I can't tonight. Or for a few days," she said, hoping he'd get the hint.

"Alright..." he said, obviously not getting the hint. "Obviously." He bluffed his knowledge, and it was all too easy to see through.

"Um, well, see... You know," she said. He did not answer.

She took a deep breath. "What happens to women, you know? Every four or five weeks? Sometimes, with me, six?"

He gave an awkward sort of cough.

She buried her face in her hands. He had no idea.

"Er... no,. Should I?" he said shyly.

For once, she had the upper hand in knowledge! But it didn't make her feel smart, just embarrassed. She hurriedly told him.

He was silent for a long time. And then...

"_Oh, my God_!" he exclaimed, sounding horrified. "You _can't _be serious!"

"I'm serious," she said, not knowing why this was such an event.

"Do you need to go to the doctor?" he panicked.

She laughed aloud. "Definitely not."

"Well... alright then," he sounded stiff and uncomfortable. "Let me know when you're... better. Er... goodnight, Cosette."

He turned over, now positively sure he should have just gone to sleep earlier, without asking any questions.

* * *

**Title: Finicky Garments  
Summary: Cosette discovers her live-in waiting-maid  
World: Book**

It was mid afternoon on February 17th, and Cosette's moods were still floating above the world with the clouds. She was singing to herself as she drifted upstairs to get ready for church. It was Ash Wednesday, but her thoughts were far from suffering. Instead they lingered on the day- and night!- before, when she'd become Marius' bride.

She heard footsteps on the stairs behind her, and before she could turn around, arms enveloped her and she received a kiss on the cheek.

"Hello," she said to Marius. "What are you up to?"

"Getting ready for church," he said. "I just need to get my jacket."

"I need to put on an actual dress," she said, gesturing to her dressing gown. They went into their bedroom, and Cosette stepped into the large closet- completely thrilled, mind you, at how much clothing was in there- and picked out her gown for the day. It was rather less celebratory than suited her mood, but her faith came first.

It was a formal gown, with buttons all down the back. She readied herself in her chemise, stockings, and petticoats, but needed to call for Toussaint to do her corset and the buttons on the dress. Then she remembered Marius was right outside the door.

"Can you help me?" she asked meekly. He came inside as soon as she called.

"What do you need?"

"Can you help me with this?" she said, turning around, to wear the laces of the corset were in the back. "I can't do it myself, and I would call Toussaint, but-"

"I have to learn sometime," he said. She smiled and he began to lace her up.

"Tighter," she said.

"Alright," he said, sounding doubtful.

"Tighter," she repeated.

"Cosette," he argued. "How much tighter is it supposed to go?"

"I always wear it like this, you'll see."

He sighed and did as was told, and then helped her with the buttons on her dress, wondering what on earth the person who designed this clothing must have been thinking.

* * *

**I hope you like this! I have another chapter in mind already... yay! Reviews? **


	21. The Luxembourg

**Title: The Lunxembourg  
Summary: Cosette notices Marius far before he pays her any attention  
World: Book**

Cosette held onto her father's arm as they walked through the Luxembourg. It was a brisk, cold November day. She was fourteen, nearly fifteen. But still a girl, all the way through. They made their was to the usual bench, and she sat talking with her Papa. He pointed out people all around, and explained what kind of people they were- the jobs they did, and things of that nature. When Cosette was younger she'd had no idea how he knew- now she could tell that he could see what kind of clothing they wore.

As she sat, she watched the passerby. Several people came every day, and she recognized them- a poor women who sat, looking at the frost on the branches, a very old man who was bringing bread to the birds. She saw two young women, friends, giggling with each other. She knew from her father's descriptions that those were working girls- they worked for themselves. They were making a living in a respectable manner, but had no support from a husband and most likely lived in a poor home. But still, Cosette a little jealous of them- how they laughed with each other! They looked to be about three years older then she was. They were free to go about the city and have friends, whereas she was so often alone and had never done anyhting remotely close to exploring.

But then she looked at her papa and her jealousy evaporated- they might have friends, but she had her father. That was all she needed to be happy.

But Cosette was not done looking- her eyes raked the path, looking for the other person who always came to the Luxembourg. He was at the age when she could not decide if he was a boy still or a man. Cosette loved to watch him. Sometimes he came with friends, too, and she watched the young men talking and laughing with each other. They all seemed so smart and so worldly, but this particular one was her favorite. He seemed quiet and nice. Of course, she did not know, for she had never spoken to him, and would probably never speak to him. She knew enough not to mention anything about him to her father, for mentioning this young man seemed different than when she'd asked about the girls.

Her heart fell ever so slightly after she'd looked about the gardens and found that he was not there that day. Oh well. She sat back and talked to her father for a few minutes, and continued to watch the people in the gardens.

But only a few minutes later, he did arrive. He walked dreamily- Cosette sometimes wanted to laugh when she saw him walking, for it was a wonder he did not walk into things. He looked so lost in his own world. He walked right past them indeed, without looking once at her. Indignately, she fixed her plush hat atop her head and sat up straighter. He did not need to look at her for her to be happy. She knew she was beautiful. And indeed... if he had come to talk to her, she'd have been so frightened! She'd have no idea what to say.

He sat on a bench about twenty meters away and picked up his book and began to read. She could see him very clearly. He seemed to be very shy, because though he was sometimes with his friends, he was often alone. And even when he was with his friends, they seemed to be wild and funny and older than he- this young man seemed to watch them and take part in the conversation only when the interest struck him.

He noticed her watching, and their eyes met. She smiled, embarrassed that he had caught her, and he gave her a strange look, almost angry that she was looking at him.

She looked away directly, and then noticed she was not the only one who had taken interest in him. The two girls were whispering intently to each other and giggling, eyeing him not very subtly. Well, he _was _handsome. She was surely not the only one who had noticed. Cosette felt odd about this- she was suddenly very interested in what the young man would do if they approached him. Would they be so bold?

When the girls got up from their bench, Cosette wanted to laugh. It was so obvious that he wanted to be left alone! Couldn't those girls see that? But they barrelled on.

"Lovely weather today, isn't it monsieur?" one of the girls asked. He looked up at them, eyes wide.

"Why- yes, it is, Mademoiselle," he said stiffly. They looked at him expectantly, but he just looked back down at his book. Cosette cringed.

"We see you here often, you know," the other one said. "You must really like this place."

"I do," he said, and then stood up. "Excuse me now, mademoiselles, I... have to go."

He hurried away, looking thoroughly uncomfortable, and the other girls looked at each other in shock, affronted.

"He's so rude!" on of them exclaimed.

Cosette, who had very little idea what to make of this, still being only a girl, sat up a little straighter, smiling. The weather really was nice.


	22. Change

**I got no reviews for my last chapter... which is weird. People, review!**

**Title: Change**  
**Summary: Cosette is somewhat upset at how everything changed**  
**World: Book**

On February 28th, 1833, Cosette was feeling tired and lazy. She decided to take a bath in the middle of the day- something extravagant and yet harmless.

She pouted and got out of the bathtub, drying herself off and feeling sad. Sometimes moods overtook her and she just wanted to hold her arms tight around herself and cry, and today was one of those days.

She patted her hair with a towel so it didn't drip down her back, and then put her perfume on. But she didn't get dressed just yet. She stood naked in front of the mirror, turning and looking at herself from the front, and from over her shoulder. She stepped close, and then away, wondering if she looked any different.

She _had_ to look different. Everything was different. When she'd married Marius not even two weeks before, her whole life changed in ways she didn't even expect. Her father wasn't her father anymore- he was some strange man who called her 'Madame Pontmercy' and insisted on being called 'Monsieur Jean.' He was distant, she could not talk to him the same way.

And Marius. She sighed. She couldn't even begin to understand, to comprehend, how their relationship had changed. Instead of floating along, happy and contented, there was a desperate, possessive and obsessive quality to their relationship that had not been there before. Yes, their relationship had always been dramatic, had always felt somewhat melodramatically life-and-death. But sometimes Cosette caught Marius looking at her in a way that made her think that he was not even completely satisfied with their married life- that he wanted to take her away someplace where there was nothing in the world but the two of them.

It was so intense.

She left the bathroom without dressing, and went into their bedroom, walking about it alone. Now, she was Baroness Cosette Pontmercy. The baroness part she could not care less about- yes, it was exciting, but the last part of the name was the one she'd fought for. And won. But just because she could care less about the money, or the title, or the house, didn't mean those things went away. People suddenly wanted to meet her, when a few months ago Marius and her father were the only ones who cared two hoots about her. Now she was introduced as a lady, an upper class woman. She had more clothing and jewelery than she knew what to do with, thanks to Grandfather.

But she was not a woman yet, and she did not ask for those things. They happened because of her marriage, the only thing she had ever wanted. But she did not dislike those things, and wondered if that made her a bad person. She was rich and young and a Baroness and she was happy- did that make her selfish?

Her eyes fell on the bed. Their bed. That had changed things more than anything else.

She laid down upon it, and wrapped her arms around the pillows, mussing the blankets that had been pulled tight and neat earlier in the day. Two weeks ago, February 14th, she had not known any of the things she knew now. When she had seen Marius on the 14th, she thought he looked handsome. That was all- the thought occurred to her, but she did nothing about it, other than smile at him. When he'd walked into the room to talk to her, she greeted him with her usual welcoming face, happy as always to see him.

Now that she _knew-_ that she _understood, _she had a different reaction. He walked into the room, and she walked over to him. He said something complementary, she kissed him. She was wired to him now. He moved, she moved. She wanted to be with him all the time, and when she couldn't she felt sick. She found herself daydreaming about him even after he'd been with her only minutes before. She always wanted to be touching him- but that had been the case before, too. She couldn't remember a time, once they'd gotten to know each other, that they hadn't had their hands clasped. But now she knew what those things _meant,_ what they led to, what it felt like. She didn't know whether or not she was glad.

_No, no, I'm definitely glad,_ she thought. It wasn't like she didn't... want to do that new thing they did now. She always had as much of a say, or more, really, in when it happened. But... it happened so _much_. Almost every night for the past two weeks, and several times during the day they were together that way, she felt closer to him that she had before. It was new, it was intense, it was _them,_ together, something that was _theirs. _When they were alone, it was like neither had a choice- self-control was beyond them, and it didn't matter anyway, because they had no reason to stop.

She loved him. And she adored him, and she idolized him. He was everything to her, but that was alright, because she knew she was everything to him too. That first night, she'd felt such a profound love, trust, and connection to him- he touched her like she was breakable, kissing her skin like it was made of paper. When he looked at her, she saw something she knew well, a passion so distinct that it was only matched by that in her eyes. She'd let him touch her, because she _wanted_him to. She felt a craving for him that she had scarcely felt before, only a few times when her dreams had taken her somewhere unknown and she'd dreamt of him in a terrifying and awe-inspiring way. But those dreams drove to prayers and guilt and blushes- what she actually shared with Marius drew her to nothing but ecstasy and love. She wanted him to touch places no one else had, places she wasn't sure _she_ had. Afterwards, he pulled her to his chest, their skin resting together, soft and warm like velvet, in a peaceful stillness.

"Can I hold you like this all night?" he'd asked. She was glad he had, because there was nothing she wanted more.

But now they were two different people because of that. They weren't the carefree, youthful people they'd been before, drunk with happiness and totally content. Now, they _wanted. _She felt no modesty, and no need for any, and neither did he. Sometimes, in the mornings, she thought objectively about the previous night, and was horrified at herself. But when she thought about the situation, the feelings, and Marius... it seemed alright and natural. He never judged her, he simply loved her.

But she was not innocent anymore. She was _not _a girl anymore and there would be no going back. They could return to their garden in the rue plumet and reminisce about how they fell in love, but they could not fall in love again, could not return to the nervous and shy beings they'd been back then.

Greed, lust, and coveting were sins. But it was not evil to covet your own husband, was it? It couldn't be evil to love someone so much it hurts. Loving Marius made her love the world more, made her love everyone and everything around her, for she'd never been happier. So it could not be evil, could it? Even if sometimes it felt like greed?

That scared her- she hadn't thought of that. Was she being greedy, taking the wealth that was offered her, _and _the husband? Shouldn't she have one or the other? Love or money? Surely it was too much to have both.

The sadness overtook her again, and she held the pillows tighter and began to cry. For almost forty minutes she cried, hating herself for being selfish, feeling too young to be a wife and too old to be a daughter, wondering where her father had gone, not wanting the rest of the Gillenormond house to treat her like a princess anymore, and feeling more love than she knew what to do with. She guilty, endlessly guilty, feeling as though she'd lost all her innocence.

When Marius found her, she was still crying and was too busybeing angry at herself to think of anything. He sat down beside her and pulled her to him without saying anything, and she cried against his shoulder.

She remembered she was naked, and did not care in the least.

Then, she realized how bawdy that was, and it made her cry harder. It was wrong not to care, wasn't it?

She vowed, right then, that when she and Marius had children- she knew how that happened now, and goodness knows it wouldn't take very long until they came along- she would tell them everything, for being thrown into it was just cruel.

Though there was nothing she wanted to change about her new life, there was a fleeting moment when she wanted to go back to how things were. But she'd grown, and their lives would never be the same.

* * *

**Sorry this was kind of a downer. But I was just thinking about how sex can change everything about a relationship even if it doesn't make it bad... but the dynamics definitely change. And poor Cosette, who didn't know anything, would surely feel like a bad person for having those feelings...**

**Ahem... ahem... REVIEWS? Thanks :)**


	23. A New Pontmercy

**Title: A New Pontmercy  
Summary: Cosette learns something when Marius goes away on a trip for work  
World: Book**

____

_30 October 1833_

_Dearest Cosette,_

_I arrived here at the inn last night. The carriage ride took nine hours! We stopped halfway through to change horses, but that was it. It's nice here, but somewhat miserable. I already miss you, but I still think it's good that you did not come. Today and for the rest of the week I'll be meeting with Monsieur Trenard to go over court tactics- what to say, wear, how to act, etc. Then on Monday we have the opening arguments. The trial continues and I don't know exactly how long it will take, but I expect to be done in at least two weeks. __That sounds terribly long, I know. Today, I woke at six and met with Trenard at eight and stayed working with him until nearly seven. I went back to the hotel and ate and I'm still working- it's almost nine. I just stopped to write to you. If you were here you'd be dreadfully bored._

_Three weeks until I see you! That sounds horrible. I hope everything is well at home, and that everyone is safe and healthy. Writing of which, how are you feeling? How is your stomach?_

_Write soon, please. I need something to distract me from all this work- there are no interesting places to walk here in this small town, and you know how much I love a good walk to procrastinate. Don't tell that to Trenard!_

_Love,_

_Marius_

_

* * *

_

_4 November 1833_

_Dear Marius,_

_Nine hours? I've never sat doing one thing for nine hours in my entire life, unless perhaps it was sleeping. _

_We miss you here, but everyone is doing fine. My stomach is still bothering me, though. Today it's not so bad, yet (it's almost lunchtime) but yesterday during the mid afternoon I was sick again. And dizzy! But don't worry, I'm taking care of myself._

_It's Saturday now and you've been gone for six days, and I miss you desperately. I know you won't get my letter until after your trial starts, but I'll be wishing you luck and thinking of you all day on Monday! The better it goes for you, the sooner you can come home._

_Grandfather misses you too. Aunt Gillenormond and I could tell. I asked the cook to make Grandfather his favorite dessert to cheer him up. Aunt tried to cheer him up by asking Theodole over for dinner. I'm afraid it had the opposite effect._

_I made plans next Friday for tea with Emmalie Arnet. She invited both of us for dinner, because we had she and Monsieur Arnet over for dinner a few weeks ago, but when I informed her you were out of town, she invited me for tea instead. I'm excited to go, I quite liked her when they came over before. They were very nice people. She told me she has a young daughter, Louise, who I can meet. _

_Write soon,_

_Cosette_

_

* * *

_

9 November 1833

Dear Cosette,

Theodole? Eh! Ever since he came over a few months ago I've been itching to cut him down. He dresses like he's some rich man, when in reality he's no better than any of us, and certainly very stupid. He must be compensating for something, with that getup of his. Sorry. That's not a very polite opening of a letter now is it?

You're still sick, darling? That's very worrisome. Take a rest and if you don't feel well, don't go out to the Arnet's... though I suppose you'll get this letter far after you've already gone. Mail is very slow. I wish I could talk to you in person. I miss you far too much to be healthy. I keep thinking of stupid things when I should be working, and wondering if I think something hard enough, if you'll be able to hear me. Let me know, maybe we can communicate with our thoughts?

The trial is going well, though one can never be sure. The judge seems sympathetic to our plight, though. The way things are wrapping up, we should be done next week. Possibly Thursday or Friday the verdict will go out, and there will be no appeal, not with this kind of case.

Pass on my well wishes to Grandfather and the rest of the house. I love you.

~Marius

_

* * *

_

12 November 1833

Dear Marius,

You are very impolite Monsieur. He is your cousin!

Don't fret, I am fine... Oh, but Marius, the Arnet's house is beautiful. I had a wonderful time. Madame Emmalie and I had some delicious desserts with our tea, and she showed me her daughter. She's just adorable- I think fourteen months, she said. Louise, her name is, and she is just starting to walk and can say a few words. The most darling child, I am sure of it. We got to talking- Emmalie and I, not Louise!- and I really had a fantastic time.

Hmmm... thought communication? Maybe, though I think I spend far more time thinking of you than receiving thoughts. We can keep trying, though. Any news on when you will be coming home?

I have some news for when you return home- well, actually, I have so many things to tell you, but you'll have to wait!

I love you too.

~Cosette

___

* * *

_

15 November 1833

Dearest Cosette,

The light at the end of the tunnel shines at last! The verdict will be presented Friday afternoon. Depending on how long the presentation is and on what it is, I may or may not get back that evening. If I can get out of the courthouse quickly- that is, if the presentation is short and no one needs to talk after- I can make a three o'clock carriage back to Paris, and get home in the middle of the night. Don't wait up, because I doubt I can make that one. Otherwise I'll have to take an eleven o'clock the next morning, and be home in time for a late dinner on Saturday. I can't wait to be home!

Pass on my greetings to the Arnet's when you write them a thank-you, and tell them I would be pleased to dine with them when I return.

I have much to tell you, but I can wait until I see you.

Soon!

~Marius

___

* * *

_

Saturday evening at eight, Cosette was seated in the living room with Grandfather and Aunt Gillenormond, having drinks before dinner. Her stomach was upset again, but not for the usual reason. Instead, she was antsy, for Marius was due home any minute after his three week work trip, the first time he'd been away from her. She sipped her sparkling water anxiously, and kept glancing at the clock. Not wanting to look silly, she refrained from turning around and looking out the windows, as she often wanted to do.

But when she heard a cabdoor slam outside, she turned and pulled back the lace curtains. She saw a cab stopped in front of the house and a man stepping out of it, with luggage. It was dark, but she knew who it was.

Without excusing herself, she left the room and ran to the front door, heaving it open. She ran down the walk in front of the house, where he was walking up. She heard him drop his bags right before she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He laughed out loud and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, lifting her off her feet and kissing her, before setting her down and pulling her tightly to him in an embrace.

"Welcome home!" she exclaimed, beaming.

"I missed you so much," he said squeezing her waist.

"Come inside," she said, and led him into the light of their home. He set his bags down in front of the door and leaned down, pressing his lips to hers passionately, his hands on her hips, drawing he rin closer to him. Her heart was starting to flutter unnaturally when he broke away. Then, he gave her a good look.

"You seem different," he said.

"Do I?" she asked, wondering how he'd noticed.

He looked at her rosy complexion and her smiling face and twinkling eyes. She was gloriously beautiful. And was she... curvier, or had he just missed her too much? "Yes... you look... healthy."

"You don't," she said, furrowing her brow. "You look like you did not sleep or eat properly for one minute while you were there. Next time you go away, I am coming with you because I don't trust you to take care of yourself-"

"Fine with me," he resigned, instead of arguing with her like he usually did, happy to be home. She buried her face against him. He smelt of soil and fresh air because of his day long carriage ride through the countryside.

"Come, Grandfather and Aunt Gillenormond are anxious to see you."

He was greeted emphatically by the rest of the family, and then towed Cosette out of the room by her hand to accompany him as he unpacked.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as he picked up his suitcase and work case and they started up the stairs.

"Still not feeling perfect," she said, but looked happy about it. "I assure you I am perfectly fine."

"Really?" he asked, and opened the door to his study, set his work case inside, and then closed the door again.

"Tell me about your trip," she said, distracting him, and put her hands on his arm. They went into their bedroom and Marius set his suitcase on the bed, taking out his clothes and putting then in a basket on the side of the room. Cosette listened as he told her a few details of the trial, and everything about his travel and nights at the inn.

"The food was good," he allotted. "But the fires were too small and I was always cold."

"You!" she scolded. "You could have complained. Or worn socks to bed, that would have solved that problem, I'm sure."

He shrugged. "So. Back to what I was talking about before, when you distracted me. Should I call a doctor tomorrow?"

"Oh, yes please," she said, but did not say anything further.

"Cosette, you're being infuriating."

She beamed at him.

"I love you," she said sunnily.

"You are still infuriating," he said, and leaned over to kiss her, glad she was in close enough proximity to do that whenever he wanted again.

He shut his empty suitcase and slid it under the bed, and helped her off it.

"Is it your stomach that's still bothering you? How are you now?"

"I'm-"

A knock sounded on the door frame, and they turned to see Basque standing in their open doorway.

"Monsieur and Madame, dinner is ready."

"We'll be right down," Cosette said, and led Marius out the door and down the stairs. "You must be starving! In the carriage all day, I'm sure you didn't eat well."

"Yes, I am very hungry," he said, disgrunted. "But you haven't answered me yet."

"Like I said in my letter, it comes and goes... but I'm certain I'm fine."

"Darling," he said, looking worriedly at her. "What has happened to you?"

She actually smiled when he said that, but then put a finger over his lips. "Please, don't mention this over dinner. I don't want to discuss it in front of the others."

"Of course," he said understandingly. "But you promise to talk to me after dinner?"

"I promise."

* * *

Of course, dinner went dreadfully slow. Marius was made to recount his entire trip, and Grandfather harped on about how 'that thick-skulled Theodole intruded the house while you were gone.' Then, not only did they have dinner, but they had a four course meal, with desserts and after dinner drinks, in honor of his return.

"This is ridiculously unnecessary," he grumbled.

"Enjoy it," Cosette said, relishing a bite of chocolate mousse. "Since it's unnecessary, you won't be getting it again for awhile."

Finally, after they'd been sitting for an hour, Basque came in and announced Grandfather had a visitor. He left to go into his library to receive him.

"I should be retiring. Goodnight Marius, Cosette. Welcome home," Aunt Gillenormond smiled at her nephew.

"Alright," Marius said, and helped Cosette up, and led her into the living room. On the way there, she tottered dangerously. He put his hands on her shoulders, worried she would fall, but she righted herself after a moment, hand to her temple.

"Cosette!"

"I'm fine," she insisted.

"I'm calling a doctor tomorrow," he shot back.

"Please," she said, nodding. "I've been sick for about a month."

She let that sink in.

"But not all day. Just... sometimes."

He nodded. "And that's very strange- I don't know many people who are sick that long."

"Actually, Marius, this happens more frequently than you'd think... I think I'll probably be nauseous like this for about another two months or so. I talked to Emmalie about this, and that's what she told me," Cosette said, and beamed. She took Marius' hands, and squeezed them.

"Cosette," he said, dreadfully serious amidst her obvious joy. "I don't know what Madame Arnet had, but I'm certain it's very serious- if you have something that lasts for _three months-_"

"Nine, actually," Cosette interrupted. "And I'm very certain." She watched with glee as his face went from serious and worried, to shocked and slack.

"Cosette..." he croaked out.

"Yes," she said, her smile brighter than the sun. "This summer, probably late June or July, we'll be getting a new family member in the house. A new Pontmercy."

"Oh my..." he said, then shook his head quickly, as though to clear it. His slack expression left, and a smile re-emerged on his face. Shock was still there, but it fit, and mixed in pleasantly with his happiness. "Cosette! We're going to have a baby! You're pregnant!"

She laughed out loud. "Yes, yes Marius, I am."

"Oh," he said, and hugged her tightly, then immediately loosened his hold on her lower back. "Is that ok? Does it hurt...?"

"You're perfectly fine," she said, and smiled when he squeezed her again.

"How do you know?" he asked, not pulling away just yet.

"I was pretty sure something was off before you left, but I had no idea what... the longer the illness went on, the more I knew something was wrong. And I felt... different. Moody, but I thought that was just because you were gone. But then Emmalie and I were talking, and I realized that I wasn't _sick..._ I was going to have a baby! And it's true, Marius! She lent me some books and I've been reading, and... oh, I'm so _excited!"_

"This is... a very big welcome home," he said, still looking rather dazed. He pushed a strand of hair that had escaped from the twist on the back of her head out of her face. Then he kissed her forehead, cheeks, nose, between her eyes, chin, and then her lips again. "This is so wonderful. I love you so much."

"Oh," she squeezed his arms. "I've wanted to tell you every minute since I found out, but I certainly didn't want to say it in a letter."

"No, definitely better this way," he said quickly, imagining what would have happened if he'd opened her last letter and found _this_ out. He certainly wouldn't have been able to concentrate on the trial.

"I hope it's a boy- no, I don't... I think a girl would be lovely... oh, it doesn't matter! We're going to have a baby!" she exclaimed again, jumping up and down in her seat a little.

"I hope they look like you," he said.

"Don't be silly," she said.

He smiled to himself, and then looked at her, deep into her eyes.

"I know the perfect name, if we have a girl."

"Oh, what is it?" she asked, already happy with his choice.

He reached for her hand and made his face very serious and sensitive looking.

"Ursula. It's a beautiful name."

Her face changed to horror instantly. "Don't!" she exclaimed, far more emphatically then Marius would have imagined. "Don't joke about her... her _name! _We're going to have to call her that for her entire _life! _It's not the least bit funny-"

"No, no, you're right, it's not," he said, and settled her back down beside him.

He sighed. If she was going to be like this for eight entire months, he was going to have to tread carefully.

* * *

**Thoughts? Reviews?**


	24. Victoire, Cries in the Night

**Title: Victoire  
Summary: Cosette is given a lesson on men  
World: Any**

"Maman," Victoire said, after Cosette finished braiding her hair. She turned and gazed at her mother, her large blue eyes inquisitive. At six and the youngest of the Pontmercy children, she was very talkative and thoughtful. "Does everyone marry?"

Cosette smiled and tied a ribbon around the bottom of her daughter's silky hair. "I suppose not. Most people do, though."

"When? Am I going to get married?" she looked frightened by this.

"Not for a while," Cosette said, laughing now. "You don't have to worry."

"I haven't met anyone I'd even _imagine_wanting to marry. Leon's friend, Frederick, why, Maman, he's just _awful. _He pulled my hair the other day and he told me that my dress was ugly."

"Why," Cosette said, pursing her lips. "Your brother and his friends are just rambunctious. You needn't worry a bit, darling. They'll grow and be more respectful. You didn't cry, did you?" Cosette knew that if the boys had seen her cry, they'd only tease her about it more later- she'd picked up some useful information with the older children.

"Not in _front_ of them," she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Well, alright then," Cosette said, and kissed the top of her head.

"Maman, let me tell you something," she said, taking on a rather hilarious all-knowing tone. "You are _lucky_ you did not have any brothers. I assure you they are just awful."

"I believe you," Cosette said, raising her eyebrows. Sometimes the boys and their friends could just terrorize their sisters- there had been many a broken doll and tea set in the Pontmercy household.

"I think, when I grow up, I am going to be a princess and I'm going to live in a castle with all the cake I want, and a kitten named Beautiful."

"Beautiful? That's a wonderful name," her mother said, amused. "But you'll get lonely if you live there by yourself."

"You can come visit me," she said matter-of-factly. "But not Leon. _Or_ Frederick."

"Alright. We won't invite any boys."

Victoire bit her lip. "Maybe Papa can come too," she said. "Because he's not really a boy anyway."

"Oh, isn't he?" Cosette said, now laughing.

"No, because boys are mean, and if he's not mean, then he's not a boy!"

**Title: Cries in the Night  
Summary: Cosette is not the most loved  
World: Either**

"No," Cosette whimpered, putting the pillow over her head. She was tired. So, so tired... it had been two weeks since she'd slept properly. But she could not ignore the cries of her newborn baby daughter.

"I'll go," she heard Marius say.

"No, she's probably hungry," Cosette said insistently. She forced herself out of bed and crossed the room. The room lit a few moments later- Marius must have lit the oil lamp. "Hello, my sweet," she said, lifting Marie from her cradle. She checked her, but she didn't need a change. So Cosette unbuttoned her nightgown- but Marie did not seem to be hungry. She just cried louder.

Marius moved to get up, but remembered how Cosette had snapped at him a few nights before. Marie was being fussy then, too, and he's wanted to help- but Cosette had not seemed to want it. "Just go back to sleep!" she'd said, irritated. Eventually Marie had stopped crying.

Cosette's head throbbed. She gently bounced her up and down. "Hush, darling, hush..." she said soothingly. Marie only cried louder. "Please?" Cosette said, knowing it was useless. She gently patted her daughter's back and tried to get her to burp, though she hadn't eaten for a few hours. She removed the little knitted socks, thinking maybe Marie was too warm. She put them back on. She cried harder, her face red as a tomato.

Cosette was on the verge of tears. Her back hurt, her body still hurt from giving birth, her breasts hurt from feeding, and she was so, so tired. She rocked her, tried singing to her, and spoke endless soothing words. But Marie would not calm.

Watching his wife near hysteria, Marius realized it was time to step in, whether she wanted it or not. He stood up, and Cosette turned to him, eyes red and bloodshot, her hair in disarray, a desperate look on her face.

"She won't stop crying," she said, her voice cracking and her shoulders shaking.

"Here," he said, and reached out his hands. Cosette hesitated, which he tried not to let bother him, but put Marie into his arms.

"Sweet baby," he said softly, rubbing his thumb over his daughter's tiny little apple-like cheek. He carefully caught her head and then brought her up to his shoulder, one hand on her soft, fuzzy head and the other underneath her tiny little baby bottom. He slowly bounced her and said the very same things Cosette had just said, and walked in a slow circle around the room. Cosette watched, shoulders slumped, as Marie began to quiet. Her cries turned to hiccups and then gasps. When she had settled down to sleep in her father's arms, Marius made his way back to her cradle.

"Let me," Cosette said, and reached out her arms.

"I can-"

"No," Cosette said, looking very intent. "Please."

He handed her over, and Cosette lowered her daughter into her cradle, and then fixed the soft cotton garment Marie was wearing. Then she tucked the baby's blanket about her. She felt Marius' hands on her shoulders, but she stayed staring at Marie, asleep.

"Go back to sleep," he said gently, and she listened. Her nightgown bagged against her now- it was from the beginning of the pregnancy, but it was still large on her from the weight she'd gained, but started to lose. Her nightgowns and dresses from before did not fit yet, and would not for some time. Cosette wrapped her arms around herself and climbed back into bed, turned away from Marius. She listened as his breathing changed, until it became to pattern she knew well, the pattern that meant he was asleep. She heard the delicate, lighter and faster breaths from a few feet away, in the cradle. She was the only one in the room who was not sleeping.

She wondered if either of them were dreaming yet, or if they both were. She wondered if, when Marie dreamed, she saw her father's face, heard his voice. Tears slipped from her eyes, and she wondered whether tomorrow, she would finally be the one whose arms Marie fell asleep in.

* * *

**Reviews, please! And I have an idea of doing a wedding night chapter, even though I have a whole series in "Cosette's Nerves" (which you should read, if you haven't, btw). But I have another take on it... lemme know if you think that version is incomplete or you just want to read another!**


	25. Wedding Night

**Title: Wedding Night  
Summary: Cosette and Marius spend their first night together  
World: Book  
Rating: M**

Cosette smiled against the black fabric of Marius' jacket as they danced. Her face was pressed against his shoulder, and she felt his arm wrapped all the way around her waist instead of resting politely on her side like it was supposed to be. She felt herself pressed against his chest, and was glad to be there. While the other couples danced apologetically, as if every moment they touched was some kind of sin, Cosette felt like her soul was flying among the clouds.

"Cosette, look up," Marius said, and she felt his voice vibrating in his throat, where her ear was pressed.

"Why?" She didn't want to move from where she was. But she did, and looked up, and he kissed her. She didn't care that everyone could see- why did it matter? She kissed him back, her hand on the back of his neck, thinking of how good life was...

Marius felt a sharp rap on the back of his head from someone's knuckles.

"Ow!" he said, breaking away from Cosette and rubbing the back of his head. He turned around and saw his grandfather giving him a look.

"Save it!" the old man said sourly, then gave them both indulgent smiles.

"Alright, alright!" Marius said throwing up a hand to express his innocence.

He turned back to Cosette, who was brilliantly red now.

"Are we supposed to be dancing with other people?" she asked him reluctantly.

He tightened his arm around her waist. "I think we're_ supposed_ to be. But that doesn't mean we will."

She smiled. "I like that idea."

"Besides, there's no chance someone else is going to dance with you tonight. I've given you up already," he said, referring to the dances he and Cosette had spent separated, "And it's not going to happen again. If someone comes over and asks, they are going to get a very heartfelt 'no!'"

She let out a laugh, but inside was glad. She had no desire to be anywhere but right next to Marius tonight, and hardly knew anyone at the party anyway.

"Why don't we be polite and talk to people together?"

"Brilliant idea," he said, and they went to thank people for coming.

Cosette could hardly believe it had all happened. Madame Pontmercy was her new name, as of four o'clock that day. She heard Marius talking to people, but was happy just to smile at everyone and listen to his voice. She was in the deepest felicity, and leaned against him slightly, his arm never leaving her waist. She knew they were going to be alone soon- they had eaten dinner already and dessert, cut their cake, talked to their guests. It was nearly midnight, and she felt a thrill of nerves and excitement at the prospect of being with him. Honestly, the night before she'd had terrified thought after terrified thought, but today all she could think about was him. She wanted to pull him aside somewhere and have him kiss her like he'd done a few minutes ago- only, no, she wanted him to kiss her even more than that, freely, because they'd be alone. His hand was warm on her hip, and she could feel the heat from his arm through the lace of her dress, hyper-aware of every place their bodies were touching. As soon as they were alone, he'd be able to hold her the way she _knew_ he wanted to- tightly to him, stopping just before it was too tight for them to breathe...

"... Madame le Baronne?"

She shook her head to clear it. "Pardon?"

"She wanted to know if that was the first time you'd been to St. Paul's," Marius said to her, giving her a curious look.

"My husband and I have been going there for years," a kind looking older woman said to Cosette. "We donated the new stained glass window at the entrance."

"Oh, my!" Cosette said, expressing the correct amount of interest this time. "Well it was beautiful. The one with the Blessed Mother and the lamb?"

"Yes," she said, obviously happy with Cosette's approval.

A few minutes later they moved on from that couple, but did not go to speak to anyone else.

"What were you thinking about, back there?" Marius asked, turning and clasping both their hands together, facing her. He furrowed his brow, and Cosette's stomach leaped. "You were a hundred years away."

"You are wearing a new cravat," she said suddenly. She loved when Marius wore a cravat.

"That's what you were thinking about?" he asked good naturedly.

"No," she said, blushing. "I was thinking about you. And me... and..." she couldn't finish, but she didn't have to, because Marius stepped closer to her, until her breath caught.

He gently ran one of his fingers across the curve of her neck, from her ear to her collarbone, on an impulse. Then he put his palm up to her cheek, caressing her skin there. "You are my angel," he whispered to her, words she'd heard from him many times, but still did not understand. "When I saw you in the garden in the rue plumet for the first time, I was more terrified than I'd ever been. I hoped you wouldn't see me, but you were only a few feet away, and you turned. I wanted to run away, but I also wanted you more than I had ever wanted anything. And so I spoke. I thought that maybe, you would say something back. That you would let me come see you sometimes. But by some miracle, you love me."

"It didn't take a miracle," Cosette reminded him, wondering how he did not see himself for what he was.

"It feels like one sometimes," he said. "You're the only thing that keeps me... sane. Especially after what happened last summer..."

"Shh," Cosette said, taking his face between her hands and standing on her tiptoes. "Don't talk about that today."

They both realized that they were still in a public place. Their conversation had been too intense to be polite, and they were standing merely centimeters away from each other.

"I think this party has grown tiresome," he said, looking at her meaningfully.

She hooked her arm through his and stood with a polite posture- the way a baroness should stand. "I agree." She yawned delicately. "Oh, monsieur, would you be so kind as to escort me out?"

"I would be glad to, Madame." He was actually surprised she had taken him up on his offer so quickly- he thought she might want a few more minutes of being the bride, the center of attention, a few more minutes of the party. But the look in her eyes told him otherwise.

Her heart jumped, hearing his voice say that word.

Very dignified, they exited the room. As soon as the door closed behind them, Marius turned to Cosette and began kissing her, obviously having the same thought as she had had moments before.

They broke apart very quickly. "Not here," they both said. "Someone will see us."

His arm still tightly wrapped around her waist, they went upstairs together. Cosette was chattering away to cover up her nerves, and was suddenly very conscious of how fast time was moving. They were up the stairs too fast, then had reached their bedroom too fast- _their_ bedroom!- and were suddenly inside it...

"Alone at last," Marius remarked, locking the door and pulling her to him swiftly and dramatically, her body dipping against his own. "Free to love each other."

She leaned back, her eyes closed, looking exquisite. He couldn't help but kiss her again, sweetly this time. When her eyes opened again, they burned with a new passion.

"I love you, Marius."

"And I love you."

He leaned against the door then, completely content, and closed his eyes. When he opened them, Cosette was standing very close to him. She had a burning, intense look in her eyes, and, with only one moment's hesitation, she leaned forward and kissed him lingeringly, laying a hand on his cheek.

Marius breathed a sigh of relief- she wasn't as afraid as he worried she would be.

He pulled back, and ran his hands down her waist, letting them rest on her voluminous skirt. After a second, he patted it, laughing.

"Are you even in there?" he said, gesturing to the hoop and the yards of white material. "I'm surprised no one lost you in this!"

She giggled. "It's heavy too. Feel," she said, taking fistfuls of the material and shaking it. He did the same- it _was_ heavy.

"How did you wear that all day?" he marveled.

"I have no idea," she confessed. "And now I don't have to… so, er, excuse me for a minute."

"Oh! Of course," he said. "Are you going to change?"

For some reason that made her blush. "Yes."

"Then face me so I can see you in your wedding dress for one more moment," he said softly. She did, and blushed again, seeing how he was looking at her. Like she was the most beautiful thing in the world. "My bride," he said to himself.

"Come here," she said, and reached for his hand, dragging him towards the full length mirror on the inside of the bureau. They stood next to each other and looked at their reflections, in their wedding clothes, at the dawn of their lives, ready to embark together. "We look good," she remarked.

"You do," he said shyly.

"No. Well- yes, I must say I do," she allowed- well, it was true, after all! "But that's not what I meant. I mean we look good together."

He had to admit she was right- their features complemented each other. They were both medium sized people, she with light brown hair, he with very dark, she with blue eyes, he with brown. They were relatively close in height and build, so they fit together, physically. But they looked different enough to blend well together. But their faces matched that night, because they both had the same look in their eyes.

"We do, don't we?" he said.

Cosette left then, and went into her boudoir, a private room with a bathroom, but mostly functioned as a closet. She went into the bathroom with her nightgown and undressed, trying not to look at herself in the mirror and wonder what Marius would think. She did manage to get some of her thoughts in order, though.

She took a deep breath before leaving the room. "You're going to be fine. You love him. He loves you. You do want this," she told herself. And she knew she did.

He roamed for a minute, untying his cravat, running a hand through his hair and mussing it a little out of the stiff, combed style someone had inflicted on him, and untying his boots. When he was taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, he wondered idly if Cosette needed any help. The maids had obviously helped her into it- did she need help out?

He didn't want to offer though- for some reason he couldn't. If she was in there too long _then_ he'd ask.

He scoffed- it seemed so unfair that Nicolette had the honor to help Cosette dress before _he _did. She didn't even know her! But she was trusted into lacing up her corset.

He decided then and there that, after tonight, he'd always help her dress, or help her with anything she needed. She wouldn't _need _a lady-in-waiting. She'd have him.

She opened the door, and glimpsed his back, as he stared out the window. He had taken off his jacket and tie (_'hmph,'_ thought Cosette), and was watching the snow fall, leaned against the window frame. Her stomach flipped, seeing him casually standing that way. But he turned around when he heard her shut the door, and looked at her, speechless for a moment. She turned to the floor, knowing what he was thinking and what he was going to say, and felt all the blood rush to her cheeks.

The straps of her nightgown were thin and showed off her collarbones and shoulders, and the soft skin there. "You look so beautiful," he said.

"You don't look so bad yourself," she said weakly, noting how good he looked when he rolled his sleeves up that way... 'Handsome' didn't seem to cover him, not to her anyway. The way he looked made her _feel_, she didn't just appreciate his face. He evoked feelings in her that she had no name for, but usually resulted in her wanting him to embrace her. "It's snowing!" she mused, and then walked over to him, and out the window.

"Here, you can see it better like this," he said, and then sat on the window seat. She joined him, and then he pulled the curtains shut behind them, so the light from the room would not reflect on the windows. She gazed as the blizzard whirled down outside their window, the white flakes coming down thick and fast, illuminated by the gas lamps on the street. She tucked her feet up in front of her, but felt Marius' hands on them. He pulled her feet into his lap so her legs were stretched out. She looked over and smiled at him. "The snow looks so... soft, doesn't it?" she mused.

What he thought was soft was the skin of her ankle, while his thumb lightly traced a circle around the bone there. Her feet were tiny, and her toes curled and were very short and small. "Very soft."

She shivered, the cold air from the winter night coming through the window.

They got up and closed the curtains again so no one on the street could see them. Both stared at the large bed in the center of the room, the four posters and hangings making it very noticeable, like an altar, stealing the focus from the room. Her eyes grew wide and a bit scared, and he knew she wasn't ready for that yet.

There was an armchair against the wall near the window, and he sat in it, pulling her by the waist to sit with him. She sat on his knees, but that hurt, so he picked her up and put her back down after moving a little. She tucked her feet up, leaned down and rested her head on his shoulder. She felt his lips against her neck and shivered, then stroked his hair with her fingers.

"You'll never leave me, will you?" she said softly.

"You're already worried about that?" he asked.

"I'll always worry about that," she mused.

"Well I wasn't lying when I vowed to love you forever," he said. "I'm more worried about you getting bored with me."

She rolled her eyes and put her head back against him. He stroked her long hair with his hand, and resumed kissing her lightly on the neck, up to her ear, and then her cheek.

"Are you scared?" he said very softly in her ear. She nuzzled against him.

"Not of you," she answered. "But... a little. Yes."

"What are you scared of?" he asked.

She hesitated, not sure how to voice her fears. "Everything's perfect now," she said softly. "So why change anything?"

He didn't know how to answer without seeming like he was coercing her.

"But I know that... that it's not bad. And I want to be with you, be everything for you," she said, looking him in the eyes. "And this is part of that."

"I only want to love you," he said. "Don't be scared. Nothing can keep us apart now."

She moved her head from his shoulder and leaned towards him, meeting his lips with hers. Their lips whispered together softly for a few moments, and she hooks her hands behind his head. He groaned softly and pressed harder against her, holding her more tightly to him and running his hands over her back, feeling her skin, warm through the thin cotton.

At the suggestion of his kiss, her lips parted, and their tongues touched, sending shockwaves through each of them. Cosette sighed, and Marius held her closer as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Marius," she whispered, and his lips left hers traveling around her cheek, against her ear, down her neck, on her collarbones. He'd covered every inch he could see, and at last moved aside the fabric of the dressing gown. He brushed his lips against her bare shoulders, running his hands over them and letting the dressing gown fall to the floor.

After some time, he put one arm under her knees and another behind her back and stood, and despite her small squeal of protest, carried her in his arms to their bed. She squirmed, a shriek escaping from her lips, and he set her down on the bed and lay down next to her. Impulsively, she rolled so she was half on top of him. Then, she blushed and moved away as though embarrassed by her passion. She didn't get very far though, for he had already tugged her back, laughter on his face and sparkling in his eyes.

They continued this, their hands stroking each other, trying to hold each other. They laughed, their kisses teasingly roaming until he rolled over her, so he was suspended in the air by his hands on top of her. Then, the dynamic changed.

The playfulness was gone, and they stared into each other's eyes seriously and intimately. Slowly, he lowered his face to hers, but did not kiss her again. Instead, he just rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation of at last lying in the arms of the woman he loved. It seemed that every pain, every loss, and every sorrow was lifted from him. When he opened his eyes, Cosette was looking at him with a look of pure, fresh love and a small smile.

He pushed aside one of the straps of her nightgown, and she watched him kiss her shoulder. Then, she ran her hands over his chest, looking at him with adoration. After a moment's hesitation, she undid the buttons of his shirt. He sat up, and tugged her with him so he could undo the sleeves. He'd already half shrugged out of it and was reaching for her again when she stopped, staring at his shoulder.

He followed her gaze, and then sighed, knowing what she was staring at.

He ran a hand through his hair in agitation, having forgotten about this particular detail.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, moving the sleeves back over his shoulders. "I… I know they're not much to look at._ I'm_ not. I should have said something- it's just the way it healed, there wasn't much to be done-"

"Hush," she said, resting a hand to his lips gently. She moved forward, pushed his sleeve back, and slowly and tenderly ran her finger over the length of each of the scars. Then, she laid a series of kisses across each one. After, she rose up and met her eyes with his, with a thoughtful and serious gaze.

"Do not apologize. Someone might find this ugly," she said, running her finger across his imperfectly healed shoulder. "But to me, it's beautiful. Without these scars, you wouldn't be alive. To me, they say that you healed. It only reminds me that someone once tried to harm you. And that…." She began, then had to swallow. Anger boiled up through her, hot and tangible. "I could kill them for that."

The passion of her anger mixed with the sweetness of her acceptance was intoxicating, and he roughly pulled her towards him again, shrugging out of his shirt completely and letting it fall. She moaned, and pressed herself closer to him as they knelt on the bed. She ran her hands across his chest, and her heart skipped about three beats when she felt Marius' hands roam from the planes of her back to the front of her chest.

An excited feeling blossomed in her stomach as she felt him explore her with his hands. She heard a guttural grunt escape from the back of his throat, and she felt a deep thrill, in a dreamlike ecstasy that he wanted her this way. That he found her so desirable made this whole act even more intimate, and easy. She felt his palms shape themselves over the small soft swells of her breasts, and she let out another moan, at the same time as he did.

Then his hands were unbuttoning the nightgown, and they were inside of it, first on her back again, feeling her warm skin for the very first time. Then, finally, they worked their way to her front, and she gasped at how much more potent the sensations were with the direct contact. He kissed her, stroked her, loved her, worshipped her.

Her nightgown joined his shirt, and they were lying back down. The skin of their chests pressed together, warm, soft as velvet, smooth and amazing. All her fear had dissipated. More potent than her fear of messing up had been her fear that seeing Marius naked would frighten her- she'd never seen a man naked, obviously, and didn't know what to expect. She didn't want it to make her uncomfortable. Now, she knew it wouldn't. Not at _all._

He was stroking his hands across her thighs, then he parted them. He looked her in the eyes before he touched her there, and it occurred to her that he was asking for her permission- not that her behavior wasn't already indicating that she'd give it to him. She ever so slightly showed with her face that yes, that was fine.

When he touched her, the first thing he felt, disappointingly, was stupid. He didn't know what he expected her to do, but her facial expression did not change that much, and she didn't say anything, and she knew even less than he did, so she couldn't tell him any way to do it better. He had no idea what he was doing or where he should touch her, but it sort of felt right, so he kept going. But she opened her eyes and looked at him with an intensity that changed everything. He suddenly felt like a man who had absolutely everything. He was in foreign territory, yes, but it didn't matter.

"Marius," she whispered, and he ran his hand up her fluid waist, her skin soft and warm and so, so much better than the fabric that usually covered her. He rested his hand right in the curve of her, between her breasts and her hip, and met his lips to hers, soft and not very slow at all, feeling her hands wrap around his neck and tug him down. Her hands dropped from his neck and ran down his chest, making him shiver, until they landed on his belt. He took her hint and unhooked it, and then finally removed his trousers.

Cosette's heart skipped a beat, seeing him, but it wasn't from excitement. For a moment, she was scared and even somewhat horrified. She'd never imagined anything like _that_ when she'd thought...

She scooted away infinitesimally, her eyes leaping up to Marius, worried that he'd see her fear in her eyes and his feelings would be hurt, but he _did _see.

"Cosette," he said softly. His voice brought her back- she was with her Marius, her lover and her _everything._ The feelings from a moment before were brought back, too, and suddenly it wasn't so frightening anymore. And then she thought about what _she_ looked like- if one didn't know what to expect, _she_ would be off-putting to. Suddenly she felt guilty. "It's just me, Cosette." He brought her hand to his cheek, and then she tentatively ran her hand over his shoulders, strong and healed, then she touched his chest, and finally she touched _him. _Her eyes fleeted to his face, thinking she was doing something wrong, but one glance said she wasn't. And... it was not so bad. His mouth was on hers then, again, and he was tugging her hand away...

Marius was having flashes where he could not remember who he was, and who he was with. He was being seized by need and lust, then his sanity would recover, only to succumb again momentarily. He had to forced himself to remember that this was _Cosette _he was with, but he hadn't expected touching her would feel like that, that having her touch him would feel as incredible as it did, that he would never want to stop kissing her like this.

But he did force himself to stop, because even in the throes of passion and desire, he could not stop being her protector, the man who loved her instead of just her lover.

"This might hurt," he said. "I don't know how much, if it's a lot or a little."

"It's okay," she said softly.

"No, it's not," he disagreed. "You know I wish it hurt me instead. If it hurts too much, promise you'll tell me to stop? I will, I swear."

"Okay, I promise."

"And don't stop yourself from saying something because you think it will hurt my feelings, Cosette," he said, smiling. She grinned back guiltily.

"Fine. I promise."

He looked into her eyes, and then silently swore to himself not to mess things up before they began, and then he entered her. She gasped, not expecting it to hurt _that_ much... or really, she had no idea what to expect. She gave a little pained whimper, and balled her hands into fists, closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, kissing her cheeks and eyelids. "Should I stop?"

"No," she answered, then opened her eyes. He kissed her again, and then she felt him moving. At first, she dug her nails into his back, as it hurt more, but it gradually stopped hurting and she could let herself relax.

In those minutes, she had never felt closer to him, never felt more in love. Desire, pleasure, adoration, everything filled her in those moments and she knew, even while it was going on, that she would never forget anything that happened that night. She felt his hand against her head, feeling her soft hair, and then he slid it down to cup her cheek, kissing her again.

"Cosette..."

Everything that they had suffered, every hour she spent crying when he was ill, every minute he thought he was going to lose her forever, they recalled in those moments when they truly came together as a husband and wife, where they would have each other for every day of their lives. She remembered thinking that she was going to die, he remembered all the nights he'd spent alone in his apartment, feeling like he was split in half, wondering if he'd ever see the girl who's stolen his heart again. And yet here they were, alive and together and would never be separated.

Afterwards, Marius laid on his back and Cosette rested her head against him, is arm around her waist still, her hand on his shoulder. She felt so safe, cared for, utterly content.

"I am so much in love," he said, and she got the feeling he was talking to himself. She smiled lazily, then rose up and rested her head against his shoulder and neck.

"Never let me go," she whispered. His arms tightened around her.

"Gladly."

* * *

**I know that was ridiculously long... Hope you liked it! Let me know!**


	26. The Morning And Evening After

**Title: The Morning After  
Summary: They wake up the next day  
World: Book**

Marius drifted through layers of consciousness, feeling sleep gradually dissipate. He felt something warm beside him, and through his eyelids could tell that it was a brilliantly sunny day. He opened his eyes and had to squint- the curtains in the room were translucent and the sun shone through them. He moved to stretch, but found his movement inhibited. Cosette was asleep still, and she was laying against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her, and he couldn't stretch with her laying against him that way. But he didn't mind. He put his head back on the pillow and looked at her. He felt her small breaths brush his skin, and admired the way her hair fell in waves, framing the side of her face that he could see. Some strands lay across her back, others had escaped over and were spread over her arm and his chest. The strands were soft and the color of chestnuts. Her back was smooth, and the white sheets were pushed down to her waist.

He was perfectly content to lay there forever, in peace with the world. His eyelids drifted closed in contentment... But he was thirsty. So... not complete contentment. He thought about ignoring it, but he realized his mouth tasted stale from sleeping- what time was it anyway?- and maybe it would be a good idea to brush his teeth, before Cosette woke up. She wouldn't have to know.

He very carefully and gently slid out from under her, his hand under her head, lowering it onto the bed so she wouldn't jerk and wake. Then he tiptoed to the bathroom attached to the room and brushed his teeth thoroughly, and drank some water. When he returned, Cosette was curled up in a ball, obviously cold since the person heating the bed had left. The blankets were still around her waist, not doing much good. He climbed back in and pulled her to him, and in her sleep she sighed and molded herself against him. Pulling the blankets over them both, he closed his eyes.

He drifted in and out of consciousness, not quite aware but not quite asleep, until he felt Cosette moving underneath his arm.

She sighed, and made a quite noise. He opened one eye slightly, and saw her rubbing her eyes. Then she rolled over, and got out of bed. Curious, he watched her through semi-closed eyes, until she went into the bathroom. He heard her brushing her teeth. He thanked his intuition, glad he'd done it already, and grinned. She came out a moment later and he pretended to be asleep, so as not to embarrass her. She climbed back into bed, and curled back against him, nuzzling her head against his chest, still rolled into a ball. He was surprised, and pleased, when he felt her take hold of his hand, believing him still asleep, and move his arm back around her waist. He smiled lazily, without opening his eyes, and pulled her closer. He searched until he felt some part of her head with his lips, and kissed it.

When he opened his eyes, she was looking at him with a smile on her face. Her eyes were puffy from sleeping, and she was pale. It almost hurt to look at her, she was so adorable. She yawned hugely, covering her mouth with her hands.

"Good morning_, ma cherie_," he said softly, his voice somewhat hoarse from staying up late.

_"Wonderful _morning," she corrected. "_Mon mari_."

He kissed her cheek, her skin cool from the winter morning. The fire had gone out in the night and the room was cold. She shivered and pressed herself even closer to him.

"Just because we're both awake doesn't mean we have to get up, does it?" she asked, a sweet look on her face.

"Certainly not," he answered. He was exhausted still- he had barely slept a wink all night, not having fallen asleep until the sun was rising. Resting his head back on the pillow, he played with a strand of Cosette's hair. She closed her eyes, perhaps falling back asleep. He stretched out, pleasantly tired and aching. His feet hurt from all the standing he'd done the evening before at the party, but for some reason the fact that there was a little bit of pain on this otherwise perfect morning made it all the more real, and therefore more wondrous.

"You know what I learned last night?" he asked, his mouth against her hair.

She peered out, moving her face from where it was pressed against his neck until she could look into his eyes. "Um... lots of things?" she said with a smile.

"Oh..." he smiled back knowingly. "Yes. But... this happened after you were asleep."

She furrowed her brow, and momentarily looked so positively adorable that he kissed her there between her eyes. She giggled and found his lips, kissing him back until they were both distracted.

"Oh- wait," she said, breaking away from him and laying back against the pillows. He settled himself beside her again, his arm once again circled around the curve of her waist. "Finish telling me your story."

"You, my _liebling,_ talk-"

"Wait," she protested. "Your... pardon?"

"It means 'darling' in German."

She giggled.

"No?" he asked.

"Mm... not my favorite. It's such a... harsh language."

"Alright..._ cherie... _you talk in your sleep!"

"Really?" she said, sitting up a little. "I've always wondered!"

"You do."

"I don't remember what I dreamt about last night," she said, thinking, furrowing her brow again, and then felt Marius' arms around her waist again, drawing her attention back to him.

"I do," he said, eyes twinkling.

She looked at him expectantly.

"It was rather hilarious... at first you said my name a few times."

"Well, only to be expected. But I supposed you enjoyed that quite a bit."

"Oh, I did. I was starting to think I was pretty special... until dancing radishes came into the picture, and I realized that your dreams were so strange I don't know if I want to be part of them anymore."

She started laughing so hard then that bent over, rolling her head onto the pillows.

"And then Grandfather's name came up, and so did veal and Aunt Gillenormond, and I started to think that you were very hungry and had spent too much time with my family."

"I don't remember any of this," she said, her eyes twinkling.

He sighed overdramatically. "I suppose, if you dream about _Grandfather_ and me in the very same evening, then I'm not that special at all... all those words, nothing but exaggerations..."

"Oh, come here," she said, opening her arms to him, and he gladly joined her, the soft cotton sheets around them, their skin velvety in its closeness, sending currents through them both. Her hair was draped over the pillow, spread out in tiny rivers of silk, which he gratefully hooked his hands through before kissing her. Her breath was against his cheek, and he had a flash of a future of more mornings, lounging in bed this way for hours, staying up late to talk, spending their days together...

"You are special," she said, barely moving her lips away from his. "I can show you how dearly..."

* * *

**Title: Chatting  
Summary: Plotless Smalltalk  
World: Book**

"So, this is from the Borneaus..." Cosette said, flipping the card over. After dinner the day following their marriage, they were opening their wedding presents. Or, Marius was letting Cosette open the gifts because it was the more enjoyable part (tearing off the wrapping, that is) and he was writing down who the gifts came from. They were seated casually, Cosette with her feet stretched out on Marius' lap, her back pressed against the side of the couch.

The bow undid easily and she lifted the top from the box. "And they got us... ooh! Aren't these beautiful?" She held up, very carefully, a pair of crystal candlesticks. "They are good friends of grandfather, yes? I would hate to think of them getting us something otherwise... People shouldn't feel obligated."

"Yes, they are. I have several memories of them coming over when I was younger."

"Tell me," she said, setting the box gently on the floor. "What was it like, growing up here?"

"Lonely," he said honestly- it was the first word that came to mind. "I didn't have any brothers or sisters and was homeschooled, and not allowed to see any other children I knew, from church or even neighbors."

She gave a small smile. "I can relate to that. There were the girls at the convent, but once I was fourteen and we left... I barely spoke to anyone. It was just me and my father."

Marius looked away at the mention of that man, still reeling over the news he'd heard earlier that day. He was a _convict!_ For God's sake, Cosette had grown up with a convict for a father!

"Marius?" she asked, noting his abrupt withdrawal.

He shook his head to clear it, and then realized his mistake. If he was going to keep this a secret from her, he'd better start doing a more thorough job of it.

"Sorry. Thinking of you. At the convent," he said, looking mournful. "What a waste that would have been... what would I have done?"

"Looked melancholy enough to attract some other girl's attention, I'm sure," she said, remembering.

He scoffed. He was well aware of the fact that, without Cosette, it was doubtful that he would have ever spoken to a woman, outside of what was necessary, and the ever present, 'please excuse my friend, Courfeyrac, he's very forward.'

"When we have children, they will go to real school, with friends. And none of our daughters will become nuns!"

She laughed, but was secretly thrilled that he brought up children. Though she was by no means ready for them now, the fact that he wanted them was... attractive.

"I agree. Though, once our daughter is about fifteen, I think you might want to rethink your decision," she said shrewdly.

He blanched. "You're right. Oh, my God..." His eyes grew wide and fearful, thinking of the terrifying world of suitors and young men calling on his innocent daughter!

"I think we're getting a little ahead of ourselves," she said, laughing at the horrified look on his face. "Though... I believe my father was rethinking _his_ decision about the convent when he found out about us in the rue plumet."

"No, he was rethinking it the minute he clapped eyes on me in the Luxembourg," Marius said, shaking his head. "That man knew it before I did, I swear. I think he could smell it coming, or something. But I suppose I was rather obvious."

"Really? And I was so subtle myself," she giggled. "I think for all the conversations I had with my father in those trips to the gardens, I don't remember a single one. I was _very _preoccupied."

"Well, for all your preoccupation, you could have left me a clue of some sort. Do you know how long I agonized over you? I couldn't find you for months!"

"But once you did, the wait was so worth it, wasn't it?" she said innocently.

"Why yes. God, that night I first saw you again, when we finally talked... I went home that night, happiest I'd ever been."

"Me too. I went to bed, thinking that maybe... I wouldn't be lonely anymore," she said, her eyes drifting, remembering.

"I was just surprised that you didn't laugh at me," he said. "I was ridiculous. I didn't stop talking, and I said so many stupid things."

"It was adorable," she said. "If you'd been too effortless, if you'd been more mature and experienced, it would have frightened me. You were perfect for me. _And_ it was charming."

He rolled his eyes. "I'll try to think up some more 'charming' things to tell you in the future... 'I look in your windows sometimes...'"

"Maybe retire that line," she said, biting her lip. "It only works once on a lady, you know."

* * *

**REVIEWS! More coming.**


	27. Grandfather! Part Two

**Title: Grandfather Gillenormond  
Summary: It's like living with your parents... but worse  
World: Book (I think I should take this tag off since I think I've written one musical fic)**

Marius and Cosette decided to walk home from church on Ash Wednesday, 1833. It was the first time the two had been out alone, and also their first full day as a legally recognized couple. The snow was whirling around them- flurries that never seemed to stop- as they went arm in arm through the streets. It was cold, but they were bundled and the wind was minimal.

Cosette held Marius' hand, walking on the curb of their street on the last block before they returned home. She teetered, then slipped, but he caught her before she hit the ground, both feeling elated. Laughing, they opened their front door and walked inside, removing their gloves, scarves, cloak and coat, hats, and other wintery articles. Their cheeks and noses were red from the cold, and Cosette had several wet strands of hair framing her face.

"Come here," Marius said, hooking his hands behind her waist and pulling her closer until their lips were together again. She leaned back against the coats hanging from the walls.

She exhaled, relaxed and feeling bliss as she kissed him back, glad that they could do this now whenever they wanted, for she was beginning to think she would never not want to kiss him...

"I see everything went fine earlier then?" came a gruff voice. They broke apart and Marius turned to see Grandfather staring at them with a mischievous look on his face.

They both turned red- everything went fine earlier? He _must_ be talking about...

"Church," he said, but the look on his face that suggested he was playing with them had not left. "You know I don't usually go to church. But I trust it was fine?"

"Er- yes. It was," Marius said.

"Good," he said, and then pointedly walked away.

* * *

After dinner the next night, Marius and Cosette were in the parlor with grandfather, and the three of them were talking. It didn't take long, though, before their conversation sort of inverted itself and left him out, making him grimace. Was he going to have to live with this for the next few years of his ninety-two year long life?

It seemed that yes, he would.

* * *

Three days later, grandfather walked into the living room, only to find Marius and Cosette in it, kissing on the couch. It had happened already, that morning. He shook his head, but was not about to retreat. Damn it, he was ninety-two years old and he was going to say whatever he wanted to say.

He cleared his throat loudly. They broke apart again, faces red. It was somewhat hilarious for the world-wise Gillenormond to see perhaps the two most virginal, reserved creatures discover that they were not exempt from the calls of the flesh. They could as high-headed as they wanted, but it was clear it affected everyone.

"I gave up my bedroom for the two of you," he said, enjoying how they looked away in embarssment. "And moved across the house to a much smaller room. Yours is a very nice room. I suggest you spend more time in it, because it's clearly necessary. Now go find somewhere else to enjoy your afternoon before your aunt finds you and faints," he said, pretending to be angry. But once he left the room, a smile broke across his face. As overwhelming and unnerving their budding desire was to watch, he was still glad there were young people in the house again.

* * *

"Mmm..." Cosette said, rolling over lazily. "I'm hungry."

"Me too," Marius mused, weighing how hungry he was versus how tired he was. "I don't want to move."

"Well neither do I," she said, and tried to ignore it. But, as if trying to win her over, her stomach growled then. She moaned, annoyed.

"Fine... let's go downstairs," Marius said, getting out of bed and lighting a candle. She thought about staying in bed and waiting for him to bring food upstairs to her, but then he helped her out of bed and she followed him down the stairs, him towing her by the hand through the dark hallway.

They found half a small load of bread and took it to the living room, sitting on the couch and splitting it between them. It was the middle of the night, because they decided they were going try and stay up until morning.

But after a few bites of bread, it became clear that they were not going to make it, and they fell asleep.

When Grandfather came downstairs in the morning, he saw his grandson and his wife, asleep on the couch in the living room.

He cleared his throat loudly, and then again when neither of them stirred- young people slept so deeply!

Cosette woke first, stirring against Marius' chest, before she opened her eyes. She blinked a few times, confused, before rubbing her face with her hands and sitting up, and found grandfather staring at them, eyebrows raised. She shook Marius, who woke a minute later and went through nearly exactly the same stages before seeing his grandfather.

"When I said you should spend more time in your bedroom," grandfather said, "I meant in addition to the time you spent sleeping in it. Not _instead of! _I didn't mean that you should switch the two activities and sleep on the couch now."

He gave them another look and then left the room. Luckily, it was very early in the morning, so the rest of the house had not woken, and no one had seen them. They went back upstairs and were going to get some more sleep before they really had to get up.

"If he weren't into his nineties," Marius said, aggravated. "We would move out. But if we did that now, I think he would drop dead."

"That's a bad idea anyway. We deserve it," she said, pulling the blankets up around her shoulders. "If we lived alone we'd have bad habits," she said through a yawn.


	28. The Living and the Dead, Noises

**Title: The Living and the Dead  
Summary: Marius' Nightmares wake him**

Marius jerked awake, feeling his heart thunder in his chest. He closed his eyes again, trying to chase away the images the dream left behind, along with the prickly feeling on his skin. His nerves were heightened, and he felt the sweat on his brow, his fingertips tingling from the adrenaline the dream had injected into him.

He realized her was pressed against Cosette's chest, his face against the cool and soft skin of her neck. Her fingers were combing through his hair, and he breathed in, comforted by the scent of her skin. His heart rate calmed a bit.

Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and found his cheeks were wet.

"Are you alright?" came Cosette's voice through the dark.

"I just had the most horrible dream," he marveled, finding her hand in the sheets.

"I know," she said. "You were shaking in your sleep."

"I was at the barricades," he said. "I've had that dream before but... this time I was shot. And I woke up just before the bullet hit me and I fell from the barricade."

"Come here," Cosette said, and he obeyed. She held him in her arms, and he felt a little out of place at first, to have _her _taking care of _him._But the depths of hell were so close, and she was the only thing that could pull him out. He held onto her gratefully, onto the only person who was keeping him from succumbing.

"I watched my friend Courfeyrac get speared by bayonets," he said finally. After months of putting aside thoughts of his best friend, simply dismissing them with 'Courfeyrac is dead,' he finally spoke the words. "I lived with him, he was the best friend I ever had. And... all I wanted to do was die when I was at the barricades. I didn't think twice about my friend's dying- all I wanted was to escape the pain. But months later, now that he's gone and I'm still here... I'm always reminded of him, but I think I'm forgetting them all, too... Why was _I _the one who survived?"

She held him tighter. "But you did survive, Marius," she said, sounding scared. The well of his depression opened sometimes, exposing how much those two days in that inferno- the one she would never truly understand- had torn him apart. She sometimes wondered how deep that well rested in him.

"If you had gone to England..." he began, "I would have gone after you. Before I asked my grandfather to marry you, I was fully prepared to go to England to find you. But if I hadn't found you... Cosette, they're would be _nothing-_"

"Marius, don't," she said. "Don't dwell on the past." She was already well-aware of his tendency to embrace sorrow and revel in it. It was dangerous. "You're here, you're alive, we're together."

"Don't you ever wonder what would have happened...?"

"Of course I do," she said matter-of-factly. "But in the end it doesn't matter. Why wonder about the horrible things, when we're happy?"

_Because we're so close to losing it all,_ he said. He knew now how fate rested on such a tiny precipice- tomorrow, something could happen and he could lose her. He could marry Cosette, he could possess Cosette, but he could not predict what God wanted her life to be.

"I love you," he said seriously. "And not just when we're laughing, making love, or feeling happy. Even when I'm in the blackest of moods, I love you."

"I know you do," she said. "And I adore you."

* * *

**Title: Noises  
Summary: Marius has a realization that terrifies him**

It was Monday, February 29th, 1832. Marius was about to go to the library, and was going through the bureau in the bedroom he shared with Cosette to find a tie to wear. Cosette was in the room next door- the one that she had originally decorated for her father, before he had confessed to Marius. There was a bird's nest outside the window, and it endlessly entranced Cosette.

"What time will you be home?" she called, without projecting her voice much.

"Probably around five," he said, going over to the mirror. "I won't be long."

As he sat down to tie his boot laces again, he heard Cosette singing softly. He was surprised he could hear- there was a wall between them anyway. But her soft singing under her breath was clear to Marius- he could almost identify the song already.

But this bothered him not. He stood and left the bedroom, ducking his head into the room next door.

"I shall see you at dinner, darling," he bid goodbye. "You'll be visiting with your father when I return."

She smiled and bid him goodbye, before turning back to admire the birds who were huddled together for warmth in the winter air.

It wasn't until Marius was out the door of the house and walking down the street that his thoughts returned to Cosette's singing from her father's bedroom. He had no idea the walls were so thin.

Then he blanched. He could hear Cosette from the other room, meaning anyone in that room could hear everything from _their_ room.

_Why_ had it been decided for Cosette's father to take _that_particular room? Marius was now inexpressibly grateful he was not living with them, and not for the original reasons. How horrifying! How embarrassing! What he could have heard. Or worse.

What he _wouldn't_ have heard.

Despite the fact that none of this had happened, Marius' face turned brilliantly red and he had to stare at the ground as he walked, providing a comical image for the passerby.

Later that night, he retired early, hoping to fall asleep before Cosette joined him. She had noticed he couldn't look her in the eye all through dinner, and he wanted to avoid her questions. But she joined him in bed mere minutes after he'd retired, and kissed his cheek once. Twice. He ignored it, but then she laughed.

"I know you're awake..." she teased. "Your face would not be that stiff and miserable looking if you were sleeping."

He opened his eyes, but shut them again quickly because she started to kiss him. But the only thing he could think of was... an _audience!_ Thank God his Grandfather's bedroom was all the way across the house, next to his Aunt's. But the notion that he father _could _have heard everything was enough to put him out of any sort of amorous mood. He kissed her back only enough to not make her feel rejected. She ignored his lack of any kind of enthusiasm, and pressed herself closer to him.

Still, she did notice his lack of _response,_ especially pressed so closely. Not a stir from him! She reached for his hand and wrapped it around her waist, but he just let it hang there limply instead of pulling her closely. Despite her continued efforts for the next few minutes, she could not get a reaction out of him.

"What is the _matter_ with you?" she finally demanded.

"Nothing," he quickly defended, and took advantage of her momentary distraction to put some inches between them.

"It is most certainly not nothing," she argued. "This morning I had to scold you because you would not let me alone when I was trying to dress my hair. But now you lay here like a dead body."

"I'm tired," he lied.

"I don't believe you're _this _tired," she said, and tried kissing him again. He avoided her lips. "There!" she cried. "What was that?"

He buried his face in the pillow. "Your father could hear," he said. She made him repeat it twice before she understood what he had to say, the pillows eating the sound of his words.

She burst into laughter. He felt somewhat ashamed that she was laughing at him, but her laugh made him feel warm so he let it go.

"He's not here!"

"But he _almost _was," Marius said. "And he would have shared a wall with us. I'm sorry, but that makes me very uncomfortable."

"Well you needn't worry. He wouldn't have heard anything."

"Why?" Marius asked. Maybe her father had a hearing problem?

"Because!" she said as though it was totally obvious. "There's nothing to hear! It's not as though we make any kind of noise... I would understand your predicament if we shared a room with him, but honestly, Marius- there's nothing to _hear!"_

"I'm going to sleep," he grumbled, and turned over. She continued to giggle for a few minutes, wounding his ego more with every moment of her amusement.

* * *

**Haha... sorry I haven't updated it awhile! Reviews?**


	29. Some More Questions and Staying in Paris

**Title: A Few More Questions  
Summary: Cosette needs to grasp what exactly happened**

Cosette stood, examining herself in a mirror as she brushed her hair. She stood and turned to the side, and then the front, turning her head this way and that. It was always hard to tell what someone else saw when they looked at you. She saw Cosette, the same old Cosette, but she had scarcely noticed any differences for her whole life, despite the fact that she'd grown and drastically changed.

Marius opened their bedroom door, and stood watching her before laughing. Embarrassed, she stopped immediately.

"Rest assured," he said, "You're beautiful." Cosette's cheeks flushed.

He put his jacket over the chair and took off his tie. Then he sat on the bed to unlace his boots. Cosette crawled up and joined him.

"I have a question..." she said, sitting behind him and resting her head against the back of his shoulder and neck, so he couldn't see her while she talked.

"Yes?"

"I'm just a little confused."

"About...?" he asked, as he tossed his boots on the floor. He tried to turn to look at her, but she hooked her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, keeping him facing away from her. She was uncomfortable talking about this, but didn't know who else to ask.

"Yesterday," she said, and then realized she had to clarify. "Yesterday _night._"

"Ah," he said shortly. He had been hoping she wouldn't ask him about this, but also waiting for the moment when she would, for he knew she would. He was silent for a minute, waiting for her to continue. When she did not, he prompted her. "Yes?"

He was making this difficult for her, wasn't he? She supposed he was feeling as awkward as she.

"That's what people do to have children, correct?" That had been easy to figure out- she'd been told that, once you married a man, you would have a child. But she knew that a child somehow came out of a woman, but that somehow a man was involved- but how did the baby get in there? And what happened once you were married that allowed for the baby to come? Well, clearly it was what they had done last night.

"Yes," he said hurriedly. She could imagine his face when he said that. It was probably red, just like hers.

"So... am I going to have a baby now?"

He laughed, easing the tension. Before answering, he moved and sat against the headboard, so she had to face him. She was kneeling on the bed, sitting back on her heels, and facing him.

He looked ponderous for a moment. "Probably not. Maybe. Actually I have no idea. But I don't think so."

"So... it didn't work?"

He ducked his head away from her gaze, laughing in an amused and awkward way. "Er... no, that's not what I meant. It... worked. That's how people make children, but they don't only do it once. It's like... asking God for a child, but He doesn't always hear, I suppose."

"Wait," she said, furrowing her brow. "So how many times do we do this?"

"Er," he said, really not sure how to answer that question. "However many. I suppose we do it whenever you want to?"

"So, does that mean..." she tried to think of a way to word her next question, but couldn't. "Sorry, I'm still confused."

"You don't just do it to make children, I suppose," he said, now _really _not looking at her. "I mean, that's what the church says- that it's specifically for making children, which is why only married people are allowed to do it. But people do it for... other reasons too."

She blushed.

"And, many people do it outside of marriage also. It's against the church, but it's a rule very often broken."

"Why?" she asked, horrified. "Who?"

"A very large amount of people," he said, not wanting to get into details about his friends.

"So... everyone does this," she reasoned. "And everyone does it quite a lot."

"Yes."

"Did everyone know we were going to do that last night...?"

"Yes," he said, blushing even more. "Everyone knew. Which is why Grandfather and some of his friends were being rather outspoken at the party."

Now she looked horrified. "Everyone knew!" she exclaimed. "That's mortifying!"

"It is rather mortifying," he agreed. "But we don't have to think of it that way, I suppose."

"But what about all those married couples who hate each other?" she asked, now positively frightened. "The ones who argue, or never speak, or the women with cruel husbands who beat them...?"

"Most of them probably don't hate each other as much as you would think," he mused, not knowing much about this. "They probably just act that way at parties. But even when they do hate each other, those couples do it anyway- or they did, at one time."

She made a disgusted face.

"What is it?"

"The thought!" she said, grimacing. "Everyone! All the time! Even horrible people who hate each other! How horrible that would be!"

"I agree," he said. "But you must admit..."

"Admit what?" she asked candidly.

"Well, _I_ didn't mind it, yesterday," he said, embarrassed.

She looked down at her hands, smiling to cover up her discomfort. But she spoke truthfully. "I didn't mind it either."

* * *

**Title: Staying in Paris  
Summary: Cosette finds out that she and her father will be staying in Paris- only to find out something horrible next.**

Cosette opened her eyes, and saw the sunlight shining through the curtains. It no longer comforted her. She had a terrible feeling resting in her heart, and worry for Marius was driving her mad. He had not come for four days now. He'd promised to meet her in the garden, but then they moved across Paris. Maybe he had not received her letter and did not know where to find her? The thought of that caused ice to clutch at her heart. If he did not know where to go, she would never see him again. She and her father would leave for England, and Marius would think she left without ever saying goodbye, without leaving merely a note on their bench for him. She'd counted on having an evening with him to, at best, think of a solution or at worst, say goodbye.

But it seemed she did not have that option. Her father had been out all day yesterday, getting their things ready for the trip. At least, that was what she assumed. Cosette had, in her most daring thoughts, considered leaving the apartment and going to the rue plumet to see if Marius was there, but then she realized it was a bad idea. Her father could return home at any moment, and find her gone. And the chances of Marius being their in the daylight were slim, especially three days after they had arranged to meet. He might already assume that she was on a boat to England.

Tears leaked from her eyes, imagining that. He might, at this moment, believe she no longer loved him. It was terrible. He was probably in terrible pain, as she would be if she had reason to believe he no longer loved her. She wanted to make it right, but had no idea how.

But Cosette, ever practical, realized crying in her bed would do nothing to help the situation. She rose and dressed, and began thinking of some convincing things to say to her father, to coerce him into staying in Paris. He might be able to be convinced to stay for another week, though she hoped they would stay forever. But if a week was all she received, she could at least find Marius again.

She opened her bedroom door and found her father sitting at their kitchen table, a mug of tea in his hand. If she had been more observant, she would have noticed the agonized look on his face, but she was more concerned with her own problems at the moment.

"Good morning, Father," she said with a smile. He looked up at her with awe in his eyes, staring at her as though he had never seen her before.

"Cosette," he greeted weakly. His face was drawn, and he was pale.

"Father... I have something to ask you," she said, now fearful. She bit her lip. He indicated that she should go on. "Father, I understand why you want us to go to England, but I must confess, nothing, _nothing,_ makes me more hopeless!" Her eyes looked at him, beseeching.

_I can think of something, _Valjean thought, his mind raking over the events of the previous evening, the sewer, that young man lying near death in his grandfather's house. But he bit his lip.

"I love Paris, Father," she said, which was the truth, but a much smaller one than what was truly on her mind. "And... I can't imagine leaving. It's a horrid thought. Or, at least can I have one more week here? To say goodbye to... to the city? I..." tears leaked from her eyes. "I can't leave without saying goodbye."

To Valjean, it was important that Cosette tell him the truth, so he pushed a little. "There isn't anything else you need to say goodbye to? Any... any_one?"_

Cosette's eyes widened. She had never told her father the truth about Marius, but she did not think she would be able to lie outright, either. However, her emotions were so near the surface that almost anything could break her, and her father was very close to doing so. She knew she couldn't keep Marius a secret any longer. "I don't understand."

"There's no one you might know that you would want to bid farewell to, before we go? No one that you would know, but I wouldn't? That you have, possibly, been meeting behind my back?" He looked in her eyes intensely for a moment, until she dissolved into tears.

"Father!" she said, and started to sob. "I... yes. I'm so sorry, but I love him and I have to say goodbye, at the very least- I can't leave without saying goodbye. I can't even imagine it- and then he'll think I left and I don't care for him! How would anyone feel if someone they loved left without even a note? It's just terrible! It's so cruel! I'm so sorry I lied to you, father, I really am. But I can't do that to him, and to be honest, I don't think I can leave at all."

"We're not going anywhere, Cosette," he said, resigned. He put a hand on her shoulder, which was trembling, and handed her a handkercheif so she could wipe her tears and calm her hysteria. "The business I needed to handle in England dissapated. We're staying. But there's something you should know."

Cosette's face went from tearful to gleeful in mere seconds. She sat silently, straight backed, eyebrows raised, beaming, waiting for him to continue.

"Monsieur Pontmercy is at his grandfather's right now."

He held up a hand when she started to say something, perhaps explain her meetings with the young man, perhaps make some kind of excuse. But he silenced her.

"You will not be able to see him. There is a doctor there now, and he is doing his best. Monsieur Pontmercy's entire family is doing their best."

"A doctor?" she asked, now worried.

"Monsieur Marius has been to the barricades, where there is fighting on the street. A dangerous and foolish thing to do. He has been shot."

Cosette gasped, and her face changed to horror. He saw her eyes once again fill with tears and grow shiny, her eyelids red. Her lips trembled, but she covered her mouth with her hands. "No- no, they must mean someone different, not... not _him-!"_

"As of now, no one is sure of his health- he is in very critical condition, and the doctor is worried that he might-"

"No!" Cosette stopped him, standing up and putting her hands over her ears, closing her eyes. She would only need to cover her mouth to be a depiction of a good worshipper. "Don't, please father. Please don't say it. What can we do?"

"Noting at the moment. As I said, there is a doctor there, we just need to be patient and pray."

"Do they need bandages? I- I'll go make some," she said, her voice interrupted by her tears, and ran off. Valjean heard the door to her bedroom close, and then heard her sobbing.

* * *

**Hello! Does anyone have any suggestions of stories they would like to be told? I would love to hear them!**


	30. Copper

**Title: Copper  
Summary: Cosette can no longer take her confinements**

Bent over her work, Cosette's neck was tied in one painful knot, the tendons screaming against the strain of being prostrated for such a long time. Her back screamed as well, mimicking the pain of her eyes, overly dry from being open too long, and tender from all the tears they shed. But she continued to work, her stiff fingers looping thread after thread over the hook, the cotton shaping itself from nothing to a strip.

Once it was long enough, she took the hook out of her work, and looped the extra string around her finger to tear it off. She pulled until it was wrapped around the head of her finger, turning the tip purple as the blood gathered beneath her skin, pushed to the surface, her circulation cut off. Her eyes watched her blood with sick fascination. She hated it, and stared at the blood with bitter revulsion.

Tearing the cotton, she felt the sharp pain, and then the relief as the cotton string broke. Tying off the string, she picked up her needle and some thread, and tried to put it through the needle's eye. It took several tries, but not too many, until she was sewing two cotton strips together to make a wider bandage.

_Down,_ she thought, pushing the needle through the cotton, feeling the thin fibers break beneath the sharp metal. _Push,_ she thought, pushing up again. _Down, push. Down, push, down, push, down, push, down push down push downpushdownpushdownpushdo-_

"_Ah!_" she cried, dropping her needle, which hung as if by a noose, swinging back and forth on the thread, still attached to the bandage on her lap. She brought her finger up to her face, and watched the blood pool out of the tiny hole where the needle had stabbed her. A circle of shiny red liquid had gushed its way out, despite the tightness of the passageway, pushing and pushing until it was outside of her body.

Cosette, feeling sadistic, gripped the bottom of her finger and squeezed, until more blood pooled out of her finger. It hurt- but she would never understand,_ could _never understand.

A high scream left her mouth as she threw her project from her lap, standing suddenly and pacing about the room in a passionate throw.

She picked up a pillow and threw it with all her strength against the wall, and then another. When neither of those things helped, she kicked the wall, and then pounded it with her fists, the clean one, and then the one that was now streaked with blood. Sobs erupted from her body, until she shook and the world was blurred and unstable, turning and quaking, until she fell against it, using the wooden beams for support.

Sinking down to the floor, Cosette crumpled, her sobs causing her to lose breath, her lungs burning from lack of oxygen, her stomach aching from the convulsions of the sobs, her eyes once again searing, as they struggled produce new tears. Her eyelids were swollen now, inflamed from all the crying. Her throat felt cracked and sore from the screams and sobs, muffled into her pillow at night because no one could hear- it's not proper for a lady to lose control that way, not proper for a lady to scream. Weeks of crying, weeks of this pain. The pain in all these parts of her body was nothing, _nothing._ It shriveled and died in comparison to the pain in her heart.

And the pain in her heart shriveled when compared to the pain in him.

"Marius," she sobbed, hugging her knees to her. Her finger burned- the needle had gone very deep. But a bullet had crushed him. Blood trickled down her finger- but he might never wake up, he'd lost so much. A finger- a finger was causing her pain! He's been pierced by nine bullets- _nine. _Nine iron balls had torn his skin, crushed his bones, damaged him.

Damaged him, it looked now, beyond repair.

Gaining control over herself, Cosette walked to the washbasin in her room, and then took a clean cloth, and dipped it in the water, cleaning her cut. When the blood was gone, it was clear- the hole was not even visible. But the wounds Marius had would make her sick- that's what everyone said.

_You cannot see him,_ her father claimed. _It's not a sight for a young lady. It's much too ghastly._

_I'd rather see blood than a grave,_ Cosette thought. _I'd rather see anything than a grave._ But she had bit her tongue, like always. Bit it so hard she tasted copper, over and over again, as every day she was told 'no.'

_You don't understand, _she wanted to cry. _I can't be away from him when he's hurting like this. I won't be sick- that is, I won't be sick as long as you let me out of this apartment and let me by his side!_

She knew that, if it were her who was hurting, her father would not be stopped. He would be at her side, no matter what anyone said. Marius would find a way to be at her side, too, because that was how the world worked. If a man wanted something, he got it if he asked enough- but it was not so, for her. She begged and pleaded, but she stayed at home. Marius might die without her. He could already be dead, and she would never see him again.

No- what she had said was not completely true. Marius had not wanted to be separated, and yet here they were.

It had been eight weeks since the announcement from her father. Marius has not woken up.

She'd been told he screams her name, told he dreams of her. But she is not allowed to know for sure.

"I understand father," she said this morning, her voice saturated with sweetness, when he told her that she could not visit, biting down on the metallic copper taste that flooded her mouth as she lied. "Please give them this." She presented him with yet another bag of lint for Marius' wounds, for it was all she could do for him. She could not give him her hand, as she wanted to, and cool his forehead with a wet cloth, could not soothe him with her words or her presence. But she could make bandages, so she slaved over them.

Her outbursts were common now, but only when she was alone. She felt her father's presence, which she used to adore, now like her corset. It fit her into who she _should_ be, who everyone _expected_ her to be. A woman, beautiful, thin at the waist and wide at the hips and breasts. A girl, silent and pretty and shedding quiet tears for Marius, practical and devoted. In reality, she was torn up inside, loud and red and with feelings welling up high and low, and there was nothing girlish about that.

Marius hadn't pushed her to confine herself- with him, she'd laughed loud, like a little boy playing in the sand at the beach. They chased each other around her garden, and she got dirt on her dress. In fact, she even fell once, straight onto the ground, tripping over her gown. A lady does not fall. But Marius thought it was hysterical, and helped her up.

Her eyes needed resting, burning from the tears and exertion. Cosette, controlled and careful, picked up her needlework and the pillows, before laying on the couch, tucking a blanket around herself.

Her mind wandered...

_"That star there, that one is you," Marius said, pointing up at the sky, guiding her hand until it pointed at the one he meant. "And that one right next to it is me."_

_"Why those two?"_

_"Yours is brighter," he said. "But mine is right under it. So if you fall, I'll catch you."_

She'd picked up his hand then and kissed his palm, her cheeks blushing, but in complete Heaven.

_"These are for you, __mon__ amour," she declared, picking wild flower after wild flower and tossing them to him._

_He laughed out loud, catching them in midair as she tossed them, dropping many. "What am I to do with these?"_

_"I don't know!" she said, laughing. "Tell your friends you picked them, tell them you found them- but they're so you think of me tomorrow, when you wake up. Put them in a place so they're the first thing you see when you open your eyes tomorrow."_

_"I think of you all day, everyday," he said, walking close to her until they were completely in the shadow of a tree, the light of the moon temporarily taken away. "I don't need flowers to remind me. When I wake, I see your face even before I open my eyes."_

Cosette smiled, her eyes closed. Then there had been the night it rained.

_It started out as a light drizzle, the pavement outside the gate shining blue under the streetlamps._

_"This isn't bad at all," Marius declared, shaking the water out of his hair a little._

_"We can brave it," she promised. But a few minutes later, a true downpour struck, the rain pounding down, the sky sending buckets of water down. They'd taken shelter under that same tree, and were once again in the pitch black. The leaves above them held most of the water off, making their sanctuary safe. _

_But they had scarcely noticed the rain, buried in their own sanctuary, their relationship an oasis from the rest of the world. In it, there was no one but the two of them, and there was no pain, no expectations, no unpleasantness, no copper. Just safety._

"_Allouette_," came his voice, and Cosette opened her eyes. She sat up and saw Marius standing in her living room. "What are you doing asleep? It's the middle of the afternoon!"

"Sorry, I just took a little nap," she said, and stood up. Her body felt renewed- no stiffness, her eyes dewy and open wide. He wrapped his arms around her, more boldly than he ever did in their garden. "Where did you go? I missed you."

"I've been here this whole time, _cherie__."_

"But you're hurt," she argued.

He held out his arms, showing his perfectly healthy form to her. "Do I look hurt?" He picked her up and spun her around. "I've never felt better!"

"I see that now," she said, convinced. "But don't go away again."

"I'm not going to leave you, Cosette," he said, his eyes humorous, but honest. "Now, come with me- let's leave this place."

She looked about, and saw that they were not in her living room, but in fact in a small, cement room, with bars on the door.

"Can we?" The idea of leaving was frightening- she was not supposed to leave. She was not supposed to be his _allouette__._

"We can go anywhere!" he cried, a smile on his face. "I'm going to take you out of here! Come, you can be free, _allouette__."_

Yes, that was what she wanted, wasn't it? "I'll go with you," she said, a bubble of hope forming in her throat, and followed him out the door, where she glimpsed sunlight for the briefest of moments- sunlight, happiness, warmth, their garden.

"Cosette!"

She jerked awake, and saw her father's caring face looking at her, concerned.

"Cosette, darling, are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine, father," she said, confused. But then it dawned- she must have fallen asleep sometime in her reminiscing. "I just dozed off for a minute."

"I don't want you to be sick," he said.

"I'm absolutely fine," she promised, and then sat up. "How is Marius?"

"The same, I fear," he confessed. "But they let me see him today."

"What?" she gasped.

"Yes- he was asleep, but they asked if I wanted to see him, and I did- he is pale, and bandaged-"

"But surely if _you_ can see him, then I-"

"No, Cosette, it's not proper."

She simmered, and thought about suppressing her anger, but she had suppressed it too much, and her lid flew off, like a hot teapot.

"He is not an animal in a zoo!" she cried, getting to her feet with strength. "If _I_ am not allowed to see him, I see no reason for you to be allowed to see him. You don't even _know_ him! Were there other people there, too? Staring at him as he sleeps? Come, let's all watch the sick man _die!_ Would you like to see? What good fun! But no, Cosette, who actually _loves him,_ can't see him, she's too _fragile_-"

"Cosette, no-"

"Father!" she exclaimed, pleading, gripping his lapels in anguish. "_I beseech you_."

He looked broken for a long moment, looking into her clear blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, Cosette."

Her face fell, and her shoulder slumped until her back was rounded and curved, beat down with the ache of these past eight weeks.

"I understand," she said softly. "And I'm sorry for that outburst- it was wrong of me."

"You've been upset," he allotted.

"Still," she apologized. "It was uncalled for. Now please excuse me- I think I need to get a hold of myself."

She gave a weak smile, and he dismissed her.

As she turned, she felt the familiar metallic taste in her mouth.


	31. Monsieur Jean, Vanity, and Another

**Title: Monsieur Jean  
Summary: 'One of those conversations in which the beloved man says what he wants to, explains nothing, yet satisfies the beloved woman.'**

_Well, that was completely odd,_ Cosette said to herself after her father left. She stood dumbstruck for a minute or two after he saw himself out, before shaking herself out of her stupor. _He's always been odd,_ she excused. _I should expect nothing less from him._

_No,_ she decided after she was up the stairs from the ghastly cellar and had entered the much more favorable parts of her new home. _It's not alright for him to be so grouchy like that. It's just terrible._

And his grouchiness wasn't just a result of a bad mood. He rejected her. Cosette felt it sear, and felt pain, true pain.

"Madame," she heard in his voice. She had adored when people called her Madame at the wedding party, and the day before when a few people had stopped in during the afternoon, and adored it still more today. But it was wrong coming from his lips. To him, she was Cosette, his daughter.

"Monsieur Jean," she said bitterly, and hated the sound of it. That was not his name. "I will not call him that!"

And why did he not want to live with them?

She felt tears prick her eyes, and she shook her head, getting rid of them. She would not cry over her father's moods. He had always been eccentric. But he had never resented her before.

"You have certainly changed your name," he had said, bitterly. Bitterly! Why, she was so happy! And here her father comes, and tries to ruin it.

_Well, pooh-pooh on you!_ she thought. _Don't resent my happiness._ For that was exactly what he was doing.

But she hoped he would recover soon. She adored him too much for him to leave altogether.

"What's the matter?"

Cosette looked up and saw Marius standing near her.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, taking a step closer. "You seem upset."

"It's my father," she said sadly. "He came today and acted strangely. He did not let me call him father, and he would not call me 'Cosette,' and he refused to stay for dinner or even stay for longer than twenty minutes, and there's something wrong, Marius, I know it. He seemed upset with me. Whatever did I do? His feelings are hurt, I know. I did not mean to hurt him, but obviously I did, somehow, or he wouldn't be so cold to me."

"You did not do anything," Marius said.

"Well of course you'll say that," she said hurriedly. "But why else would he act this way?"

Marius regretted promising not to tell Cosette about Valjean's secret. He could feel it driving a divide between them already. Secrets were horrible for them. He felt guilty and hated lying to her. So he said something that was the truth.

"He is probably sad about losing you," he said. "Come," he said, and led her into his study, which doubled as the library. She sat in the big leather chair and he sat on his desk, facing her.

"Well he shouldn't be! He didn't lose me! I didn't die or something of that sort. I moved. We're married now, but we've been betrothed for months! He knew this was happening! And we offered a room to him, he didn't have to lose me even this much. It's as if he wants to be miserable."

Marius could agree with that. He did not entirely believe Valjean's excuse about having a guilt-free conscience. By confessing to Marius, he had guaranteed himself an absence from Cosette, as if he was determined to be miserable.

"Well, it's just been the two of you for so many years," Marius said. "If it's anyone's fault, it's mine."

"Yes," Cosette said, smiling. "If you hadn't been so wonderful, I wouldn't have loved you as much, and you wouldn't made me so happy. Goodness, Marius, it's a wonder I even agreed to marry you."

He smiled, but knew what she was saying wasn't true. He would do anything he could to protect her, and that meant pushing her father away. But lying to her just felt wrong.

"He could just be jealous, as anyone would be. Losing you isn't easy, Cosette."

"So he's upset that I married you? Well, as I said before, he knew it was happening-"

"But maybe he wasn't prepared for what the house was like without you," Marius said, still evading the main issue.

He could hardly reconcile his desires. He wanted this man out, away from Cosette. He was glad that Valjean seemed to have listened to Marius, and was distancing himself from Cosette. But Marius wanted to break his neck for hurting her feelings, even though he himself had asked for it. Not that Marius could break Valjean's neck, even if he tried. But he was angry at him on both fronts, making it irrational.

"Oh," she said, and this seemed to make sense to her. "He's lonely."

"Maybe."

"But- well, we'll ask him to live with us again, Marius. Can we?"

"Why don't you try to do as he says for a few days?" he asked, evading the point again. "If he wants to distance himself a little, let him. He's just coping because you're not a child anymore. You've grown up and it's probably hard for him to accept."

"Why didn't I think of this?" she asked.

_Because it's only half-true,_ Marius thought. Everything he said was true. Valjean was probably selfishly pining now over her, the girl who had no right to possess anyway. He was probably angry that she'd grown up, and did not stay the child he had tried to control, and keep under his thumb. Marius remembered how strict he was with Cosette, and a frightening thought occurred to him. Valjean had been frighteningly protective of Cosette, very strict, and never let her out of his sight, never let her grow up. He was upset, indeed, when she loved someone other than him. He was jealous of Marius, that much was obvious. But Marius thought of his possessive qualities, and his convict background, and of Cosette's almost frighteningly loyal attitude toward him.

What if he had ever hit her?

"It's just so upsetting, because he has never been cruel to me, not for a minute," Cosette continued, and Marius' fears dissipated. "Not even a cruel glance, not once. But now he acts cold, as if he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. Marius?"

"Yes?"

"Don't change like this, please. Don't wake up one day and be an entirely different person."

_He's not,_ Marius thought. _None of us knew him in the first place._

"I won't," he promised.

* * *

**Title: Vanity  
Summary: Cosette's vanity is tiresome**

"Good morning," Cosette said brightly, turning over and kissing Marius.

"_Mignon,"_ he said, his heart melting when he looked at her. "You are adorable."

She smiled brightly, his presence and comment putting her in a good mood, and then sat up and got out of bed. She walked over to the bureau and opened it, taking out her dressing gown and putting it on over her nightgown, before gazing at her reflection briefly.

She cried out.

"Who are you speaking of?" she asked.

Her eyes were puffy, and she was extremely pale. Her hair was flattened on one side, and her eyes were red. There were pressure marks on her cheek from the sheets. To top it off, she had a large, angry red spot on her chin.

"You," he mumbled.

"No, I don't think so," she complained. "I am _hideous._"

He grunted and put a pillow over his head. "I'm going back to sleep," he groaned. "Don't be that way. Shut that mirror away and think about something other than the flaws you think you have. It's tiresome and dreadfully boring."

"Hmph," she said, and quietly looked at herself for a few more minutes. Maybe if she turned that way, she might look better...

"Cosette!"

"Fine!"

* * *

**Title: Another  
Summary: Marius finds himself able to love another girl, perhaps even more passionately**

"You're so pretty. What are you looking at? Me? What's so interesting about me?" His heart swelled, looking at her. He didn't think he could possibly love another this much, but he did. His heart swelled, and he found he had room for another girl other than Cosette. It was undeniable, and he couldn't do anything about it.

"Do you love me?" he asked her, and his heart melted to pieces when she smiled at him, her joy on her face, undeniable as his love for her. "I'd do anything for you," he promised, a seal of fate on his words. "Anything. You mark my words, my love. I'd give up everything for you."

It had happened suddenly. One day it was just he and Cosette, and he had loved her more than he thought anyone could love anyone. But then suddenly someone else stepped into his life, and he could not resist the pull she had on his heart. He loved her. His love for Cosette was there, but this new love demanded his attention, and it was stronger- filled with violent protectiveness, and yet was a gentle as summer wind.

"You've made me happier than I even thought you would," he told her, and kissed her sweet forehead. "You've changed my life. But I do wish you let us sleep more. I don't have endless banks of energy darling. I do need some sleep."

She beamed again, not apologizing at all, and Marius' heart melted once more, and he did not demand any remorse from her. He would hand her the world in a moment, if he could.

"I'll be here for you every minute," he promised. "No one can take me away from you."

It was clear she adored him already, even though their relationship was short and young. It was clear on her face and every time she looked at him. He was surprised at the strength of his feelings, but they tugged at his heart and he just loved. He would not let anyone stand in the way. It gave him a huge thrill to know she already adored him, and that he was half her world already.

"But darling, we will try to sleep tonight, alright?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She couldn't talk yet- indeed, she couldn't even laugh or babble. Her tiny muscles were too young to do much. Her limbs barely jerked yet, and the muscles in her legs were invisible. Just tiny rolls of baby chubbiness. Her arms were the same way, but her skin was soft and unmarred, not yet exposed to any part of the world. Marius had his hands clasped carefully, holding her back and head up as she sat precariously on his knee, her skin warm through the cotton of her little baby gown. She bobbled around, but he his hands were gently but strongly around her, making she her tiny body did not teeter to far to one side and fall.

"Aw, I know you can't," he relented a moment later. "You get hungry, sweetheart. I understand."

He made faces at her, something he thought about doing while Cosette was pregnant, and decided against.

_That's so childlike and stupid,_ he thought. _I can't imagine doing that without feeling like an imbecile. And what is so rewarding about looking like an idiot in front of a baby?_

Now he knew. He could spend hours in front of her, watching her face react to the world around her. He loved to watch her learn, and watch her file away voices, expressions. He knew that the day he saw her use them would be an amazing one- one where he would see her personality. But it was already there. He already knew her, his Marie.

"Just don't grow up," he pleaded.

And, as if trying to please her father, her eyelids drooped, and she fell asleep. He marveled at this, too- her ability to go in and out of sleep with almost no notice. He brought her up to his chest and rested her against his shoulder, and stood from the couch. He held her against him as she slept, marveling at how small she was. Cosette was napping upstairs, so he did not put Marie in her bassinet, which was in their bedroom for now, Marie being only a week old. She would doubtlessly wake her mother. Instead he continued to walk slowly, the motion keeping her lulled, her tiny baby breaths reminding him once more of his role in the world. To protect.

* * *

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	32. The Gorbeau House

**Title: the Lark  
Summary: If the Thenardiers had gotten Cosette and Valjean's address another way, and been able to kidnap her what would have happened?**

Marius' stress levels were uncomfortably high. He climbed down from the dresser, his heart beating in his chest. He had only a few minutes to act, yet his mind was befuddled beyond belief. He did not know the facts- he just knew that the Jondrettes were not Jondrettes and they were brutes. And they had a girl, a girl called Lark, a girl who very well could be Her.

And the man who was almost certainly her father was tied to the bed, trapped.

"The police come, and she's gone," Marius heard through the wall. "I'll just give the signal, and that will be the last time this Lark sings."

_Help me, Jesus, _Marius thought. He had no idea what he could do to help, but he knew he would lay down his own life saving her. At the very least, even if it wasn't Her that was in danger, it was still an innocent girl who did not deserve this fate.

"I have to get out of here," he murmured. He was worried that his neighbors would begin to check his apartment again, as they had done only a few minutes before. And he needed to clear his head.

The snow outside muffled the sound of the carriage wheels on the street, and it was eerily quiet. The bad weather prevented many from going out and taking care of their usual duties. Marius thought that the Jondrettes might be bluffing about the news about the police. After all, if this gang was arrested, how would they get word to the Lark's captives to finish her off?

But despite his gut's instincts, Marius did not trust his feelings. He would have to solve this alone. He did not go far from the building, and walked around the block a few times, his boots making a track in the snow on the walk next to the street.

"Hurry!" a reedy voice hissed, and Marius ducked behind the corner of the building and watched a familiar person get out of a fiacre.

"What on earth?" he murmured.

The behemoth of a woman got out first, her garish red hair covered by a hideous, tough wool scarf.

"He's waiting for you!" she ordered. "You have to hurry! Come with me, but be quiet!"

"Madame," a young voice came through the fiacre, unseen by Marius. "Please- explain to me what's going on!"

It was a voice saturated with fear, but Marius actually felt relief. This woman was actually bringing the girl to her father, not killing her after all!

The hideous monster woman reached into the fiacre and jerked on the girl's arm, pulling her from the fiacre. It was She.

Her beautiful blue eyes were wide, and her every mannerism pointed to fear and distrust.

"Madame, this is the same building my father and I were at this afternoon," she protested. "If he'd wanted me to come, I'm sure he would have asked the first time-"

"Shut up!" she barked.

"Please, let me go!"

Marius emerged from behind the building, now sensing ill, and was about to intervene when the bald man and one of the men with a mask over his face emerged from the building. Marius ducked behind for the shortest of moments, watching. They looked up and down the streets for passerby, and then grabbed the girl by the arms, while the woman shoved her hideous headscarf into the girl's mouth.

Marius felt his heart drop to his feet, and he began to run after them, but quickly stopped himself. If he was rash, and burst into the room without thinking, they would both be killed, and then her father would be killed minutes later. He had to think this through.

But standing still was agonizing. After a minute, rooted to the spot, Marius walked into his building, trying to appear calm. He listened for noises, and followed. He found the woman shutting the door to an empty garret.

_Well, that won't do any good, they lock from the inside,_ Marius thought, but then saw that someone had changed the doorknob around- it now locked from the outside, leaving the person inside to be locked in. She then slid a chair in front of the door, propping it so even if the girl picked the lock, she would be trapped.

In the shadows, Marius watched as the hideous woman planted herself outside the door, and her husband's cohorts went back upstairs.

The girl was done for. Marius could not get past this woman without her alerting the rest of the group. They were only a scream's away.

But if he lured away from the door, he could get the girl out.

Saving her was the first thing on his mind- indeed, almost the only thing on his mind. He would do anything to see that this girl did not die. He would give years off his life to see she was happy, and he would unquestionably give his entire life to see that she had hers. But this thought did not escape him: if he saved her, he could speak to her.

The girl was not making noise from inside the apartment, so Marius gathered she was still gagged, and most likely bound. Marius crept upstairs and found himself in his garret again, silently going through his desk drawers until he found his knife, in case it came in handy later. He then crept back down the stairs, and was about to turn down the hallway where he had a hiding place, when he saw the elder Jondrette girl.

He nearly jumped out of his skin, and was afraid she would scream, or alert her mother to his presence.

But she leered at him, her way of smiling. She was happy to see him, in her own odd manner.

"Monsieur Marius," she croaked, losing some syllables in her speech.

"Hush!" he commanded without thinking. "I don't know what is going on here, but-"

"Oh, it's just my father. You have nothing to worry about. I suggest you just go somewhere else for a few hours though, just in case."

Marius stiffened, his pride wounded without her even knowing she was wounding it. He would just simply retreat!

"Wait!" he exclaimed, remembering her offer from a few hours ago. He was desperate, but he did not care. He gave her a kind look. "Will you do something for me?"

"Oh!" she said, and her face lit up, looking like a specter. "When you smile such!"

His cheeks colored, as this girl made him extremely uncomfortable.

"But will you?"

"Of course."

"Distract your mother."

"What on earth?"

"Just do it!" he growled, but backtracked. "I'm so sorry. Please, just distract her. Bring her upstairs, just bring her far from that room, for five minutes' time."

"You are a funny man, Monsieur," she said, with an odd look on her face. Obviously she did not know what her parents were up to, in regards to the Lark. "But I suppose I can do that."

Marius watched her retreat, her pointy shoulder blades sharp, making her skin looked stretched over them. He resumed his position in his hiding place, and held his breath. He heard the Jondrette girl's voice. But even a few meters away, her words were lost. The croak, low, hoarse and inarticulate, could not be made out over any sort of distance, as it was scarcely speech at all. But he heard footsteps retreating, and then on the stairs above his head.

"This had better be important."

"What does it matter?" He discerned from the girl's croaks. "No one is here anyway."

He acted fast. Ordinarily, he would have panicked at the thought of approaching Her so boldly, but he had five minutes to count on, and he was hardly going to push that. As quietly and quickly as he could, he moved the chair and undid the lock on the door.

He opened it silently, and saw Her bound to a chair, immobile- that explained the lack of protest. A gag was in her mouth, but her eyes were not silent. They displayed panic, at seeing the door open. Obviously she thought whoever the visitor was would be someone to finish her off.

Marius put a finger to his lips, and took the gag from her mouth.

"You," she whispered. He didn't let himself think of that. He knelt in front of her, so his head was a little lower than hers.

"Please, Mademoiselle- I know you're frightened and you don't know what is happening. I don't either, but I saw them take you here and you have to trust me. I'm going to get you out of here, but you mustn't make a sound- we have to be quiet or they'll hear us. We have only a few minutes. Will you come with me?"

Cosette, who had almost no memory of not being able to trust someone (except for the past hour, her life had been filled with trustworthy people), nodded, still fearful.

Marius pulled the knife from his pocket, and she gasped.

"I'm going to undo your bindings," he explained, and slowly brought the knife to the ropes tied tightly around her wrists. He looked at her innocently, trying to gain some of her trust. She did not protest, so he began to examine the knots. Too tightly to untie. "Please be still."

"Do you know where my father is?" she asked, her voice sweet and high. It was probably so high due to her fright.

"He is upstairs, Mademoiselle," Marius said, concentrating on not cutting her wrists as he sawed through the ropes. They were thick and not making quick work. "And I overheard them say they would kill you if the police were called. But if I can get you out of here, I'll call them- but you must be safe first. There," he said, as the ropes fell to the floor.

He helped her up, because she was shaking horribly. It did not escape him that her hand, white and gloveless, was in his own.

"Come, we must be quick," he said, and reluctantly dropped her hand. "Please stay close."

He gestured and led her out the door and into the hallway, until they were in the stairwell. She followed his every move, not knowing what else to do. He was her only ally in this hellish situation, and she did not know what else to do than take his order to "stay close" very literally.

Suddenly, a huge burst of commotion sounded from the upstairs, and the door to the stairwell several floors up banged open, and a man came forth.

"It's my father!" she gasped, and moved to run up the stairs, to join him.

"No!" Marius said, and grabbed her hand, pulling her into a broom closet Madame Bougon used.

"What are you doing?" she protested. "Let me go!"

"Mademoiselle, your father is going to be followed by about ten men who are intent on murdering us all," Marius said. "And I will not let them catch you."

"But my father! I can't leave him!"

"He's much faster than you, I'd venture to guess!" Marius hissed. "You'll probably only slow him down, and he'll be more focused on keeping you safe. Trust me, he's better off trying to escape on his own. Now please, Mademoiselle, hush! They mustn't catch you!" He instantly felt guilty for talking to her even somewhat harshly. He made his tone soft. "I know I have not given you any reason to trust me yet, and I know this seems crazy. But I promise you that I am not going to hurt you, and I'm going to do everything in my power to get you home safely."

She was silent for a long time, and he would have given anything to see her face at that moment, but the darkness covered it.

"I believe you," she said finally.

The noises outside had dissipated, and Marius opened the door, looking outside for a long time before deeming it safe. He led her out of the closet, and out of the tenement, until they were on the snow covered street.

He looked, but did not see any of the thieves. "They must have run. But they'll look for you, no doubt."

"Unless the police got to them," she said hopefully, but Marius did not think so. The noise had dissipated to quickly. If the police had come, there would have been sounds of arrest.

They began to walk, and the panic they had both been feeling finally started to ebb.

"Pardon me, Mademoiselle, but when I first came in that room... you seemed to recognize me."

She looked at him, surprised. "Of course I did, Monsieur. I mean, maybe it's silly, but I remember you. Maybe you didn't notice me as I thought you did... but there, in the Luxembourg, I thought... well, I don't even know what I thought, but I noticed you. And I remember you."

Despite the horror of the hour before, Marius felt his soul reach Heaven. She remembered him. She noticed him.

"I noticed you," he said, with maybe too much conviction to use with someone one had only just met. "That's why I came and found you this evening. I mean, I would have helped any innocent they tried to murder, but I saw it was you, and it's been months I haven't seen you, Mademoiselle, and then suddenly there you were..." He trailed off, not knowing how much of his feelings he should reveal. This was not exactly an ideal meeting. "I knew I couldn't let anything happen to you."

She looked directly at him, less than a meter away, and his heart almost stopped beating. He was actually standing next to her, she, his angel, after so many months of blackness. And she was safe, and she was _looking at him._

They had reached a main road, and she jumped out of the way as a carriage came past, so the freezing water from the streets would not spray and ruin her skirts. Marius' eyes drifted across the street, and saw everyone bundled up. Away from the Gorbeau house, Paris seemed right again. People, normal and working and honest, were milling the streets. Marius saw an old woman, and thought about how he and this girl would look to others. A couple? Would people think they were a young married couple, or a couple in love? That was how they must look- the thought gave him a thrill. Two children walked with their father, and a woman held a baby to her chest. A bald man was scanning the street, just as Marius was.

"Run," he said under his breath.

"Pardon?" she asked.

He reached for her hand. "Run! They're here- come, don't slip, there's ice on the sidewalk!"

Taking advantage of the traffic, Marius was able to stay out of the bald man's line of sight, until he saw an alley jutting off the side of the street. He led her down it, and saw it opened onto another street a block down.

"We'll go this way," he said. "I'm so sorry, Mademoiselle. They're looking for you, or your father. I have no idea what they want with you, but it seems they want something. We have to go another way."

"It's alright," she said, but her voice shook, indicating that it was _not _at all alright. "Well, it isn't your fault anyway."

"Are you warm enough?" he asked, noting her hand was cold in his own, and she had no hat. She had on her cape, but that was all of her outerwear.

"It's cold, but I'm fine," she said. "That horrible woman came and did not give me a chance to get my gloves or my hat. It's terribly embarrassing, being out without my hat, but she insisted we leave quickly. Honestly, I did not trust her- I'm not daft- but I had no idea what to do, and no one else was home."

"I understand," he said. "But you're safe now. However, speaking of your home, Mademoiselle, do you know how to get to your house from here?"

"Oh, no," she moaned, absolutely overcome by this situation. "We're lost, aren't we? Oh, Goodness, this is awful- my father is probably on his way home now. I pray he is, anyway. He's probably sick with worry, and I mustn't do this to him, but we're _lost_ and no I don't even know where we are, much less how to get home-"

"Don't worry!" he said. "We aren't lost! Mademoiselle, I know where we are. But I have no idea where you live, so I can't take you there until I know."

"Oh," she said, and then blushed furiously. The red in her cheeks was lovely, and Marius was again amazed at who he was standing beside. Her hand was still in his own. "Goodness, of course you don't know where I live. You must think I am very silly. Honestly, I'm just overwhelmed. I'm not usually this spotty and confused."

"It's perfectly alright."

She told him her address, but the rue Plumet being a very short street, Marius had not heard of it before. She was not very aware of the city, so she could not give him much more information than her quartier.

"Can you tell me how to get there from the Luxembourg?" he asked. "That might help me place it."

"Yes," she said, relieved that she could finally be helpful. After a few more minutes of directions, Marius was almost entirely sure of where she lived, and was just listening to her voice. "Thank you so much, Monsieur. I don't know where I would be if you hadn't come to help me."

"I don't know where I'd be if I hadn't come, either," he said. She looked at him, confused, but he did not know how to explain. He only knew that he was happier than he'd ever been, but how could she be expected to understand? She noticed him, true, but she could not possibly understand the depth of what he felt for her. If he started to explain, he would probably just annoy her. She was most likely a lovely, educated girl who spent her time at cotillions. She had probably just made her debut, and now had suitors left and right and he was just someone who had helped her out one day. Nothing else.

"I am so worried for my father," she spoke after some time, biting her lip. "It's only the two of us, you see, and if something happens to him... oh, the thought is too dreadful to imagine!"

"I'm sure he's safe," Marius said. "He was running very fast."

"I hope so," she prayed. "But even if he's home, he will be terribly worried. I can't imagine how he must be feeling."

"I'm sorry there isn't a faster way," he said, feeling inadequate.

"Don't be!" she said, picking up this. "It isn't your fault at all! As I said, Monsieur, I wouldn't even be here without you. It was a rather remarkable thing, to be honest. I thought of you just the other day, and thought about how I never see you anymore. And then there you were, saving me."

Marius' heart fell a little- or, if he wanted to be honest about it, he would say it broke. _I thought of you just the other day,_ she had said, as if it was remarkable. That was nothing. He thought of her every minute of every day. She was his whole world. He did not expect her to feel the same way, but hearing that he had happened to wander across her mind once, after months of absence, was hardly consoling. Did she miss him at all? Did she feel even a small fraction, an particle or piece of what he felt for her?

No.

But though he felt the abyss of hopelessness open up, he did not descend into it yet. They had about a half an hour left to walk, and he wanted to make the most of it. Marius, a very shy person by nature, managed to push away some of the protective walls he encased himself with, and asked her some questions. She talked easily and freely, and soon they were walking, and they were babbling on, she telling stories about her father, and herself.

She and her father did charity work, she was brought up in a convent, and was born far from Paris but has lived here for most of her life, and couldn't remember anything else. She liked flowers and singing, and her father was a wonderful man who sacrificed everything for himself. She adored him.

Marius, in Heaven, just listened to her voice and her words. She asked him about himself, but whether it was out of politeness or interest, he did not know.

Finally, they stopped at the end of the block by her house.

"I'll see you to your door," he said, dreading this moment. After they said goodbye, what could he do? He knew where she lived now, but now that they had talked, he could not very well hang about, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. She would recognize him, and maybe wish him to go away. He would hate to get to that point.

But after speaking with her, touching her hand, and even calming some of her fears, he could not just forget about her. Hell, he couldn't forget about her even when all they had done was gaze. Now he felt himself fall even more in love, irrevocably. He was no longer in the love with a mysterious soul he thought he knew- he was in love with a person.

"No!" she said. "Don't be ridiculous. You must come in!"

"I couldn't," he said reflexively, thinking of her father instantly.

"No, you must, Monsieur. Stay and have dinner with us. I must offer my thanks for what you did. Besides, my father will want to meet you. I would love for you to meet him."

"Well," he said, thinking of saying no, but then he realized it would buy him more time with her. Even if he had to endure a few hours with her father, he would have more time with her. "That is very gracious of you."

"Oh, it is nothing. Please, come with me!"

She led him to her doorstep, and then somewhat awkwardly dropped his hand. Obviously her father was on her mind, too.

Marius had been filing everything about this away- her words, her voice, her facial expressions, the feel of her hand, the sweet way she said 'Monsieur.' But he realized he did not know her name.

"Hmph," she said. "The door is locked."

But it did not stay shut for long. Not four seconds after she'd tried the knob, it flew open, and her father came through it. Relief was radiating from his every pore. This huge man, his strength obvious, became as soft as any child, and enveloped the beautiful girl in a fatherly embrace.

"Cosette!" he sighed, shutting his eyes tightly. "Thank God."

_Cosette,_ Marius thought, dawn in his mind. _Her name is Cosette. That is positively adorable._

"Are you alright?" her father asked, holding her at arms length. "Are you hurt? I only just got home ten minutes ago, and when you weren't there... God Almighty, Cosette, I was terrified!"

"I'm perfectly safe, father," she said, and then looked at Marius. "And not hurt at all."

Her father followed her gaze, and then glared at the young man.

"Who is this?" he said. Marius had expected him to be somewhat protective of Her- Cosette- but this man was even harsher than necessary. They were obviously very close, but he looked at Marius with supreme hatred. Did he recognize him from the Luxembourg?

"This is..." Cosette began, but realized she did not know his name. "Actually, I don't know. Monsieur, would you introduce yourself?"

"I apologize," he said. "My name is Marius Pontmercy. I live in the building where the Jondrettes live."

"He found me, father," she said. "Can we come in?"

"Oh, of course," he said, but was still stiff. He warmly helped Cosette in, and then held the door open for Marius with disdain. "Darling, are you cold? It's snowing out, you're hardly dressed for it."

"I'm fine father," she said. Marius gathered that she must do a lot of this- appeasing her father. 'I'm safe,' 'I'm fine,' 'I'm not hurt,' 'I'm happy.' She had a practiced tone to her assurances. "I was here when that horrid woman came by, and she told me you were looking for me, but didn't give me a reason to follow. I did not want to, but she was so frightening, and I did not know what to do. There's no one around here, and I just went... it was stupid of me, I know. But she took me to that same building we were in this morning, and these men came by and tied me up and put me in this room, and then they left me there. I thought I was going to die, I really did- but then Monsieur Pontmercy came through the door, and untied my ropes and he took me home."

"Well, Monsieur Pontmercy," her father said. "I cannot possibly express my gratitude fully. My daughter is the dearest person in the world. I thank you for your safety."

"We saw you," Cosette said. "On the stairs, running out."

"Why didn't you go with me?"

"Well Monsieur Pontmercy said that if we stopped, those thieves might catch all of us, and we should let you try to get away, because you'd be safer that way."

"I would have appreciated knowing you were safe," he said stiffly.

"I apologize, Monsieur," Marius said, his mouth dry. This man was not easy company. "I did not know what to do, around company such as those Jondrettes. But hearing all those murderous people thunder down the stairs was not comforting, and I thought it best not to interrupt your escape. Who knows, we might all have died."

"Maybe," the man said coldly.

"I invited Monsieur Pontmercy for dinner," Cosette informed her father. "To thank him."

"Did you?" her father asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yes," she said. "Come, sit down, Monsieur. Make yourself comfortable."

Marius was feeling anything but comfortable at that moment, but Cosette did not seem aware of the icy attitude in the room. Marius wondered why on earth this man seemed to resent him for bringing his daughter home, but he attributed it to protectiveness. They obviously had a very close relationship, without any third parties.

Cosette led the way to the living room, where she took a seat in a chair, and gestured for Marius to take a seat, too. He waited for her father to sit down on the couch before he sank into a seat.

"Father," Cosette continued. "After we got out of that horrid place, Monsieur Pontmercy and I were talking. He says he's a lawyer. Monsieur, what do you do, as a lawyer?"

He started to explain, but was marveling at her resilience. She hardly dwelled on her near-death experience, but was focusing on being a hostess.

Marius, still uncomfortable, looked at her for encouragement, and that was when he noticed that she was not unaware of the awkwardness. She gave him a look, indicating he continue, and her eyes sparkled with amusement. When her father turned away, she smiled at him woefully.

"I don't know if Toussaint prepared dinner," her father said stiffly. "We were very preoccupied."

"Dinner is ready!" a voice came from the kitchen. Cosette's father's face fell.

"Please set an extra place setting," Cosette called back. "We'll be a moment."

She stood, and the others stood as well. She stood and kissed her father's cheek, and whispered something that Marius was obviously not meant to hear. "Cheer up and be polite!"

"Monsieur, please come help!" an old woman's shriek came from the kitchen.

"What?" her father yelled, and ran into the kitchen, distracted.

Marius took advantage of the momentary absence, suddenly brave. She had encouraged him to keep talking, invited him in despite her father's lack of support. He felt a bud of fearlessness.

"Can I see you again?"

"Pardon?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Please, Mademoiselle. May I see you again? Last time I saw you was almost six months ago, and I cannot go that long again, I just can't. Mademoiselle, I don't expect you to understand- how could you, it's as if I am crazed- but honestly, I just want to talk to you. Please, let me see you again."

She bit her lip and deliberated. Propriety on one hand, an adventure on the other, with possible happiness.

"Come here tomorrow evening," she said. "After ten o'clock. My father will be asleep. I can see you in the garden."

"No worries," Cosette's father said. "Madame Toussaint had a small fire. Nothing is the matter."

"What a relief!" Cosette said, brushing off the sudden intensity. "Now come, let's eat, shall we?"

They all sat down, but Marius could not focus on the conversation. He was seeing her again tomorrow. Tomorrow. And she was seated across him now. Her name was Cosette.

* * *

**Please, Please PLEASE review this! I would really appreciate it.**


	33. The Arnets

**Title: The Arnets  
Summary: Marius and Cosette have seperate evenings with friends, and wonder if that is acceptable.**

"The Arnet's cannot come to dinner," Cosette said, putting down the note that had just been delivered.

"That's a shame," Marius said.

"Yes, but Monsieur invited you to something," she said, and passed it over to him.

"Oh," he said, surprised. Him, invited to something? They were only friends with this couple because they had first known grandfather, and Madame Arnet and Cosette were friendly. But _he_ was invited to something? He opened the letter and read the short message about not being able to attend dinner. Another piece of paper was in the envelope. He read it aloud.

_Monsieur Marius Pontmercy,_

_In light of our latest discussion on Bonaparte, and my awareness of your allegiance to him, I thought you might be interested in joining me next Saturday. I will be attending a lecture on Bonaparte, at 3 o'clock. Please let me know if you would like to accompany me. _

_Monsieur Louis Arnet_

"Why, that's just wonderful!" Cosette said. "I can have Madame Arnet for tea, and you can go out. That's simply lovely."

"I... er," Marius said, growing a little nervous. He hadn't been out with any friends in months- well, he hadn't had any friends since the barricade had taken them. Most days he was perfectly fine spending his time at home, doing work or being with Cosette. He hadn't really noticed his loneliness.

But lately, now that her pregnancy was well under way... she had started acting very different, and though he knew why, he had to admit (though only to himself) that she was tiring to him. Her emotions were running rampant, and she was always just a second away from tears. An afternoon away from the stress of home actually sounded inviting.

But not inviting enough.

"I don't know," he said to Cosette. "I don't really know him that well."

"Oh, don't be silly," she said, moving from her chair to sit beside him on the couch. "You've met both of them on many occasions. And I know you'll enjoy the lecture."

He sighed. "Alright. I suppose," he allowed.

* * *

A week later, it was arranged that the Arnet carriage would come by the Pontmercy's midafternoon on Saturday. Monsieur would drop off Madame Arnet, and the men would make their way out. Before the Arnet's arrived, Marius was feeling nervous. He'd grown rather comfortable in his quiet life, and had come to rely maybe a bit too much on Cosette to assist him with social interaction.

"I'm sure you'll have a great time. Come here," she said, and kissed him. He smiled at her, temporarily feeling comforted. When the Arnet's arrived, they invited Monsieur in, but he and Marius only stayed a few minutes before Marius, with a somewhat frightened look at the aspect of going out without Cosette, left with his new friend. Cosette smiled, glad she and Emmalie could now talk as ladies did when they were alone with their friends- which was to say, in a somewhat unladylike manner.

"I'm so glad you could come," Cosette said, standing up from the couch and taking her new friend's hands.

"Thank you for inviting me," Emmalie Arnet said politely. "You have a lovely home, as I have said many times."

"Why thank you," Cosette said graciously, before offering her friend a seat and some refreshments. After some idle chatter about her friend's carriage ride there, Cosette sat up a little straighter.

"Now... how are you?" Emmalie said, eyeing her friend knowingly. "I've been dying to hear!"

"I'm very well, very happy and healthy," Cosette said.

"I see you've just started to show," Emmalie said. "How many? Four months?"

"Five actually," she said. "I'm so excited, really. It's amazing."

"I understand," she said. "Do you need help with anything?"

"No!" Cosette exclaimed, throwing up a hand. "I have all the help I can get here, _trust_ me."

"Do elaborate- oh, if you want to. I don't want to pry," Emmalie said delicately.

"Oh, not at all. I just haven't been trusted to do any physical labor since Marius found out- and by physical labor, I mean moving a chair, lifting my gowns, going for walks. Honestly I'm surprised he doesn't carry me up the stairs. He'll be telling me that my embroidery is worrying him next. 'Do be careful, dearest,' he'll say, and take away my threads."

Emmalie giggled. "You are hysterical, Cosette. I'm sure it isn't that extreme."

"I'm not complaining," she said. "I'd rather it this way then..." her thoughts drifted to the short descriptions she'd had recently of her mother, that her father had given her on his deathbed. Fantine had 'given her everything' and given _up_ everything for her daughter. Cosette, after some consideration and time to ponder, had finally understood the magnitude of what that meant, and it made her even more grateful to be where she was. All thanks to her father. "Anyway. I'm healthy and it's going marvelously. I've just been making a little blanket- would you care to see?"

"Of course."

Cosette took Emmalie upstairs into what would be the baby's room and showed her the box of things she'd spent her time making- a blanket was in progress, along with several pairs of tiny socks and hats. Emmalie picked up the tiny sock, which would have been big enough to house just two of her fingers.

"This is darling," she said. "If you have a girl, I can lend you some of Louise's baby dresses. She grew out of them so fast, I have far too many."

"I have some, but thank you very much. That's very kind of you."

They went back downstairs to have tea. "How is your husband?" Cosette asked politely, and Emmalie filled her in, driving them both to heavy laughter when she impersonated him, lowering her voice. Emmalie and her husband got on very well, but, as with anyone, being with each other was sometimes chafing and stifling.

"There are just some things I do not understand about men," Emmalie said. "Such as this. My husband comes into the room I'm in. It's quiet, the baby is sleeping, I'm busy with needlework. He does something noisy, waking her up. Later, he asks if I'm mad... of course I'm mad! But I don't want to cause a fight, so I say no."

"And then he _believes _you!" Cosette answered, knowing exactly what her friend meant. "That happens to us all the time. Except it's more the opposite. Marius is so quiet that he comes into a room silently, and then sits next to me, without saying anything. It scares me senseless once I finally realize he's sitting next to me. I've told him countless times to make more noise, but he's just naturally quiet."

"They are so oblivious."

"Sometimes, yes," Cosette agreed. "Very literal," she said.

"And Heaven forbid he listens to a thing I say in the bedroom," she said.

Cosette nearly shrieked, and put her hand over her mouth in shock.

"Oh, it's true!" Emmalie brushed her off. "Don't be naive. We both know what I'm talking about."

Cosette blushed.

"It's all fumbles and clumsiness," Emmalie said, with a delicate eye roll. "Honestly. I think he expects me to _enjoy_ it."

Cosette turned even redder.

"Tell me- if you want- have you ever...?"

She made a face at Cosette, who did not look at her. She turned her red cheeks at the floor.

"Oh, Cosette!"

"Well, people don't _talk_ about this!" Cosette hissed, as though she was afraid someone would hear her.

"Yes they do!"

"No," Cosette refused.

"They most certainly do. It's _men_ who say women never talk about this! Women talk about it just as much as men talk about it to _their_ friends."

"But that's men and... oh my... you don't suppose, right now, our husbands are talking about...?"

"No, no," Emmalie said, waving her off. "Not the two of them. They are too stiff. But does your husband have a very close friend?"

"Not anymore," Cosette said, paying careful attention. Emmalie seemed to know much more about this sort of thing than she.

"Well mark my words, they talked. But you never answered my question- have you ever...?"

Cosette buried her face in her hands, but she was laughing. "Sometimes! It took a dreadfully long time before it happened for the first time, though. Perhaps a month? And mind you, that was with multiple tries per day." But then she covered her mouth, surprised she'd said such a thing.

"A month is nothing! Try six!" Emmalie exclaimed.

"_Six months?"_ Cosette gasped. "How could he be so oblivious? Didn't you try to help him out?"

"Oh believe me, I tried. But like I said, it's like his head is made of rock. He doesn't hear a thing. I'd been pregnant with Louise for two months before even the slightest shiver down there."

Cosette giggled. "I can't believe we're talking about this," she said, horrified.

* * *

"Did your wife cry all the time?" Marius asked Louis Arnet as they sat in a cafe. After the lecture, they'd stopped to get drinks before heading home. Though they'd initially discussed the speaker and the information, a few sips of strong drink and a subject change to personal life had the two exchanging personal bits of information. For the first time since Courfeyrac, Marius found himself actually communicating with someone other than Cosette.

"Oh, it seemed like just about anything would set her off," Louis said.

"I just worry about even _looking _at her the wrong way," Marius said, eyes wide. "Yesterday, I asked her if she was wearing a new dress, to cheer her up... But she exclaimed that I never noticed her, or something. I didn't even know what she was saying, she was rambling and crying, and so I just apologized. A few minutes later, she was happy again. It's like the weather, but even more unpredictable."

"We just have to admit that we're not important in this process. After the beginning, of course," Louis said. "Because all we ever do is disrupt them."

"It certainly seems that way," Marius shook his head.

"And resign yourself now. It does not get better after the baby is born- at least not for a solid two months. And that's if you have a good nurse- if you don't, it's longer."

Marius turned pale. "What do you mean?"

"I mean they _still _keep crying, they _still_ only talk about babies- except it's even more so, now that they have one of their own- and they only want sleep when they're in bed."

"Oh," he said, and then stared at his drink, lost in thought.

* * *

"It was lovely of you to come," Cosette said to Emmalie. "Monsieur, you and Madame must come back soon, and we can properly host you for dinner. It was a pleasure, Emmalie."

"Well thank you for having me," she said. Various polite kisses were exchanged, and the Arnets left.

"I'm tired," Cosette said, and started to make her way up the stairs.

"How tired?" he asked warily. Cosette turned, and gave him a look.

"Very tired," she said. "But if you're tired too you're certainly welcome to be tired with me. Did you have a good time with Monsieur Arnet?"

"Yes," he said honestly, taking his cravat off and helping Cosette unbutton the back of her dress. "The speaker was very well informed. How was your visit with Madame?"

"Delightful," Cosette said, her eyes sparkling, and then laughing at some remembered joke. "I haven't had that much fun with another woman in... well, I don't think I ever have. She's a very funny woman."

"What did you talk about?"

She turned, once he was done with the seemingly endless row of buttons. "Oh... everything," she said slyly, but then looked worried. "What did you and Monsieur talk about?"

"Lots of things," he said evasively. Her eyes grew wide, suddenly frightened. _Men talk,_ she remembered.

"Me?" she asked, nervous.

"Well, obviously a little," he said. "But nothing bad," he told her, already feeling guilty for talking about her, and mentioning her mood swings, even if almost every pregnant woman had them.

"We only talked about you a little bit," she said, also somewhat untrue. _Well, not really. It had mostly been about Monsieur and Madame Arnet. _"Anyway, I don't think the Arnets have the most wonderful relationship."

"I don't either," he said quickly, taking the extra pillows of the bed as Cosette changed into her nightgown.

"I mean, she didn't seem perfectly contented with him," Cosette said, getting into bed.

"And he seems to tire of her easily."

When he joined her a few minutes later, they both looked preoccupied. It had been fun to talk to someone other than their spouse for once, it's true, but they didn't know whether they should feel bad about that or not.

"I missed you," he said, feeling like that made up for it.

"Me too," she said, and smiled. "It's alright, isn't it, for us to have a good time talking to someone else?"

"I think it's perfectly fine," Marius said. "I mean... there's no reason for it not to be."

"Alright then," Cosette said, actually relieved now that Marius had said this was fine. "I had a wonderful time today."

He actually felt his guilt recede. If Cosette could have a good time without him, then he was allowed to have a good time without her. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Goodnight."


	34. Children, Hiding, Bijou

**Title: Children  
Summary: Marius comes home from work**

The door to the Pontmercy household opened at six o'clock, and Marius entered his home after a long day in court. He was greeted by a curly, dark-haired head that didn't even come up to his hip.

"Papa!" Marie cried, her voice still high and baby-like.

"Hello_, mon petit choux,_" he said, and scooped her up in his arms, kissing her cheek. "I missed you."

"Me too! Maman and I made cookies, and then she took us to the park."

"Which park?" he asked, smiling at her ashe closed the door. He could listen to her talk all day.

"The one we usually go to. With the house. The one other people aren't ever at."

"Oh, Maman's old house?" Marius asked her. He and Cosette brought their children to play in the garden of the rue plumet sometimes- Cosette remembered how she had loved playing there when she was younger, and wanted her children to do the same.

"Yes! Maman told me about the different flowers that are blooming."

"Where is Maman?" he asked.

"In the nursery," Marie said.

But obviously she wasn't any longer, because Cosette appeared, a little boy in her arms, rather a large baby, who was still not walking but could crawl faster than any baby they'd ever seen.

He kissed her, and then took Jean in his other arm. "Marie told me you went to the park today. I just sat and listened to people talk- it was so boring. But it's always boring without you all," he said to his son.

"Papa you would have had fun with _us_," Marie said.

"Did you learn any new words today?" he asked Jean, who just smiled.

Cosette's face lit up. "He did! Didn't you, darling? What did you say?"

"Ma..." he said, proud, but stopping when he saw everyone look at him.

"Go on," Cosette encouraged. "You learned your sister's name. Mar... Mar..."

"Marie!" he exclaimed, smiling triumphantly.

Marie reached across to her brother in her father's other arm and patted him gently on the head.

"Shall we sit down?" Cosette asked, and the little family followed her into the parlor.

* * *

**Title: Hiding  
Summary: Marius makes Cosette court _him_**

"Where did you go?" Cosette asked into the empty, dark garden. "I saw you come in through the peephole in my shutters. I watched you come through the gate! I know you're here."

She walked towards the gate, and did not observe him.

"Marius?" she called, but heard no reply. She went to the back of the garden, where there were four trees and several bushes and undergrowth, creating a very dark section, sort of a grotto made of greenery. A snap of a twig alerted her, and she went behind the big oak tree. But no one was there!

"Now really," she chided. "You're just being silly."

She took one more turn into the darkness of the garden, and felt arms envelope her.

"I found you!" she cried, laughing. "Why were you hiding?"

"I chase after you every night," he said. "And I thought maybe you'd want to chase after me."

* * *

**Title: Bijou  
Summary: Valjean finds himself replaced, yet again.**

"Bon soir," Cosette greeted breezily, avoiding saying 'father' or 'Monsieur Jean.' However, she was obviously in a very good mood. "How are you today?"

"I am very well, thank you," he said. She pouted a little, put out that he would not ever add any personal information.

"What did you do today?" she asked.

"This morning I went for a walk around the-"

"Oh, I forgot!" Cosette exclaimed. "I have to show you something!"

"Pardon?" Valjean said, not used to Cosette interrupting. But she was obviously very excited about something.

"Wait here, I'll be a minute and a half," she said, and bounded up the stairs in a somewhat unladylike manner- there were parts of Cosette that were still a child, despite being officially recognized as a married woman.

Indeed, only about a minute later she returned, with a squirming, fluffy adorable thing in her arms.

"It's a dog!" Cosette exclaimed. "I named him Bijou, because he's positively adorable."

"You bought a dog?" Valjean asked, as Cosette scratched the tiny white puppy's ears.

"Marius bought me a dog," she corrected. "Someone was selling them in Les Halles. They're nine weeks old, and he's a... a... oh, I forgot what kind of dog he is. Something with a B. I don't know anything about dogs. But isn't he _adorable?"_

_"_He is," Valjean said truthfully. Cosette put the little puppy down on the cement floor, and got down onto it herself to play.

"He's too small to hold a ball in his mouth yet," Cosette said. "And he cries when you leave him alone, isn't that sad? He's still a baby."

Valjean remembered when Cosette was about thirteen, and had wanted a dog. He'd said no, just because they moved too much and he didn't want to have to worry about a dog when they moved, too. She'd had enough trouble leaving Catherine behind when they moved, and she was only a doll. If Cosette lost a dog, she would be crushed.

Cosette's attention was completely diverted, playing with the little puppy. She would pet him, and he would retreat, before running up to her and jumping onto her lap. It was rather endearing to watch the two play together, the childlike nature of Cosette's soul with the puppy, but she never stopped. She was very distracted.

After an hour or so of her inattentive replies, Valjean bid her goodbye, and left. She barely seemed to notice.


	35. Early Rumblings, Visitors, Stubborness

**Title: Early Rumblings  
Summary: A second pregnancy is easier on both**

Cosette laid down on the large bed with the golden embroidered spread, over the covers. She stretched out in her nightgown with her arms over her head, and flexed her feet. It had been a long and tiring day, and she was glad to be able to relax.

She closed her eyes, and did not open them when she felt Marius lay down beside her. She smiled when she felt him wrap an arm around her, and felt the familiar spread of warmth as desire for him washed through her, as potent as ever, despite the amount of times they had been together in their two years of marriage.

She felt his lips on her neck and cheeks and eyelids, and then his hands on her breasts and bare arms. She sighed a little in contentment, and felt his face pressed gently against her neck, before moving downwards. He unbuttoned her nightgown just over her belly, and kissed her naval and nuzzled his face against her soft skin there.

"When were you planning on telling me?" he said.

She opened her eyes and gazed down at him. "I have no idea what you mean."

"I think you do," he said with a knowing smile. She did not say anything, just continued to look mischievously at him. He put his hand over her stomach again. "What about this?" he asked, regarding the small bump she had there.

She grinned brilliantly. "How did you guess?"

"How did you think I _wouldn't _guess?" he asked. "We've been making love at _least_ two or three times a week, darling. It's almost July, and you the last time you refused because you were on your time was in April. I remember because it was the day before I went to Vernon for the weekend. You don't eat the fat off meat anymore, or really anything too rich. You look dreadfully nauseous sometimes, and I have never seen you nauseous except during your time carrying Marie. How long have you known?"

"Middle of May," she confessed. "That's when I was almost sure, at least."

He grinned brilliantly, and rose up to lay beside her. "Are you happy?"

"I am delirious," she said.

"As am I," he said, his dark eyes alight."I've been suspecting for about two weeks now, or maybe three. So not long after you knew, so did I."

"Do you want a boy this time?" she asked excitedly.

"I want whatever you have in here," he said, a hand on her stomach.

* * *

**Title: Visitors  
Summary: Marius is not the only one restricted to bed rest**

Cosette got out of bed, and felt the horrible scratchiness in her throat. She tried to cough, hoping it would pass, but only felt pain, as though she'd swallowed a fork. Her eyes watered, and her breathing was difficult.

"Good morning, Father," she croaked.

He took one look at her, before ordering her back to bed. "You look horrible, Cosette."

"It's just a head cold," she said. "I'll be fine."

"I know you will, but you most certainly aren't going out today. It's cold," he said, referring to the freezing January air; it was wet and unpleasant outside.

"But we were supposed to sign those papers Monsieur Gillenormond got from the mayor today," Cosette protested.

"Well you won't be," he said. "You will not be going out."

"Father, I don't want everyone waiting on my account-"

"If that's the case, I can go pick them up for you and have you sign them. We'll bring them back tomorrow. You go back to bed, and I'll wake you when I return."

Cosette pouted a little- she could care less about the papers, really, she just didn't want to spend the day without seeing Marius once. "That's fine, father," she said miserably, and went back to her bedroom.

Later, when Valjean went to the Gillenormonds to pick up the papers, he was greeted by Marius, whose face promptly fell when he saw that Monsieur Fauchelevent was not accompanied by Cosette.

"Cosette is ill," Valjean said.

"She is?" Monsieur Pontmercy asked, concerned now.

"Not very; just a head cold. I just stopped by to let you know she would not ber visiting, and to pick up the papers she needs to sign. It's best she doesn't go out in the weather, what with the sleet and wind."

"Oh," Marius said, still disappointed. "May I come see her?"

"I..." he wanted to say no, but realized he had no reason to. "She would like that."

"I'll be ready in two minutes," he said, and went to get his coat.

Cosette was interrupted some two hours after her father left by a knock on her bedroom door.

"Monsieur Pontmercy is here to see you," Toussaint's customary stuttering floated through the door.

"Oh!" said Cosette, surprised, but pleased.

"Shall I tell him you are sleeping?" Toussaint asked, misinterpreting her look of shock.

"No," Cosette said, reaching from her bedside to get her dressing gown, which was hung on the chair. "Just wait until I say I'm ready."

Their apartment was so small that she had no doubt her father would let Marius in to her room- after all, she'd spent countless hours at _his_ bedside when he was confined at the end of his convalescence and beginning of their betrothal. Anyway, the walls were thin and as long as they left the door open, her father did not seem to mind.

Cosette had been embroidering several new white garments for her wedding, and she stashed them under her pillow once she had tied on the robe.

"You can send him in now," she said.

"Hello," Marius said a moment later, peering through the door. She smiled rather sheepishly at him, feeling stupid to be laying in bed all day. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she said, but her croak of a voice betrayed her. "Come in," she invited, but coughed into her arm, away from him. He obeyed, and took the seat beside her bed.

"You sound horrible."

"And look it, too, I'm afraid."

"Yes," he confessed. "But I don't mind it at all."

She smiled ruefully. "You're sweet. But ridiculous."

"What would you like me to do? I'm sure you'd like to rest your voice."

"Yes," she said. "But you'll stay?"

"Of course. Shall I read to you?"

"Please," she said, touched. "I should like that very much."

* * *

**Title: Stubbornness  
Summary: Two headstrong people cannot live together without expecting to clash sometimes; even the best relationships suffer through fights**

"Marius, you mustn't fight with your grandfather so," Cosette said, her voice hard. They were in the library following a heated and unkind fight between Marius and his grandfather at dinner. "He is an old man. It's abominable of you to yell at him."

"Oh, is it?" Marius asked, peeved.

"Yes!" she cried. "You are twenty-four, he is ninety-five!"

"Age does not make him right!"

Cosette threw her hands up in exasperation. "Always about right and wrong! Politics, politics, politics!"

"Yes! And his are ridiculous and cruel, and unforgiving of anyone's plight but his own. God, if the man once stopped to think of someone else's problems, and not just those of the rich-"

"What about you? He lived through the French Revolution, I'd say he has more right to have an opinion about it than you," Cosette said, her blue eyes seering.

"Are you suggesting that I have no business having an opinion?" he spat, his fists clenched, leaning forward over his desk, which was between them.

"I am suggesting you should listen to someone else, for once, Marius!"

"_Me? _You are the outspoken one, here! Do you listen to anything I've said? Anything at all? If you had, you would have realized my argument with my grandfather was completely justified. He was _wrong, _Cosette-"

"I have listened to everything you have ever said," Cosette said passionately. "So I know when you are being ridiculous. And Marius, you are hopeless right now-"

"You are honestly telling me I am out of place here? You are telling me not to voice my opinion in front of a stupid, stubborn man-"

"The only stubborn man I see here is you!" she said, her voice raised, her arms crossed over her chest. "And it is making you stupid!"

Marius glared at her, and hit his fist against the mahogany, clenched so that she could see the tendons in his arms, from where his sleeve ended, rolled to his elbows. "Cosette, I am not being stubborn, I am being strong-willed-"

"You are the most stubborn man I know," she contradicted. "And don't try to deny it." She glared back at him for a long time, and he right back at her.

_Why is she so difficult sometimes? _he thought in anger. _She is the stubborn one, not me. She won't rest until I admit I am wrong._

"Admit that he is a foolish old man," he ordered.

"No," she said with strength. "He is old, and he has views from a previous century. You have your own. You live in the same house, and he won't be here much longer-"

"Oh, God Almighty, don't get me started on that- 'I won't be here much longer,'" Marius said over dramatically, in a bad impersonation of his grandfather. "The man wants us all to kiss his feet!"

"Everything you have, you have because of him," Cosette said.

"Except a _father_," Marius retorted.

"But you have a wife, and a child now," she said fiercely. "All due to him."

"I think he is wrong."

"I think you are wrong to let him bother you this way, and should apologize."

"_Apologize?_! For God's sake, Cosette, I will not walk in there and admit he is right!"

"That is not what I said! Admitting his views are right and apologizing for horrid behavior are different things."

"I was not horrid!"

"Marie behaved better at dinner than you!"

"Marie has no _teeth _and cannot _speak_!" he shot back.

"I am well aware!" she seethed. "I think you are stubborn and ridiculous and that is the end of it!"

Cosette held her arms with determination, and set her chin in such a way to make her look solid and resolute, almost challenging.

He continued to shoot anger at her with his eyes for a long moment, still bent over his desk, his mouth set into a humorless line, his brow drawn dark and unforgiving. Their lived gaze seemed interminable, until Marius came out from behind the desk and, in two strides, had her in his arms, and crushing his lips against hers. They stumbled backwards until her back was against the bookshelves.

"I adore you," he said against her lips.

"I am still angry with you," she said. "Dreadfully angry!"

And, as if to prove her point, she tugged his lapels, bringing him closer to her.

* * *

**Reviews? Please?**


	36. More Nighttime Meetings

**Title: Secret Meetings, part two****  
****Summary: Though still innocent, Marius and Cosette _are_ human, and not quite as well behaved as their relatives believe****  
****Rating: Heavy PG-13, light R**

Cosette and Marius were intoxicated with their freedom to see each other. Cosette came by every afternoon, and sometimes in the morning, and they would spend the day together, with Marius' grandfather and Cosette's father, and occasionally other visitors. They would all four sit together and chat, planning the wedding, and rejoicing in the presence of all these other people. They were gloriously happy.

Well, that was what Cosette and Marius would tell anyone. But that was not how they really felt. They did not enjoy spending all their time surrounded by other people, and most certainly did not enjoy Grandfather's endless doting on Cosette, which prevented them from having any time alone. If Monsieur Fauchelevent ever left her side, Marius' Grandfather took advantage of the fact that she was unchaperoned to complement her profusely. Marius, who would have appreciated to have taken advantage of this time, was increasingly bothered by that. Marius and Cosette were practically starving for some time alone.

One day in early January, the house was full. Several of the employees helping with the wedding were there, and they were tasting food and discussing music and flowers. The volume in the room was increased, and Cosette thanked chaos for their freedom to talk.

"Do you know what I miss?" she whispered to Marius, sitting beside her on the couch.

"What do you miss?"

"Being able to talk to you," she admitted. "I suppose we should just be thankful for all the good fortune that has rained on our shoulders these past few months, but honestly… I can't say two words to you without feeling like someone is listening. My father is always there, your grandfather is always there… I see you for hours every day and yet I miss you. We used to be able to talk all the time, about anything."

"Oh, Cosette! I'm so glad you mentioned that! I didn't want to say it for I did not want to sound like I was complaining, but it's so true. We-"

And they were interrupted. For the rest of the afternoon, they could not exchange any private conversation.

The next day, now that Cosette knew she and Marius were in agreement, they exchanged many frustrated glances.

"We can't speak freely in front of everyone," she hissed to him as they walked into the dining room to look at something grandfather wanted to show them.

The flirtatious, light-as-air, pure as snow love that they had shared in the previous spring had matured some. Neither was entirely sure what they were feeling, but they knew they were not content to simply brush their fingers together anymore.

Later, when Cosette and her father were leaving, Marius reached to kiss her hand- the most he felt allowed in front of everyone. But when he clasped her hand, he felt something there. Subtly, he curled his fingers around the small, folded paper in Cosette's hand, and discreetly put it in his pocket.

He went upstairs to his bedroom and unfolded the paper, and found a note:

_My love,_

_I had an idea last night, after I went home. If we both want to talk freely, why don't we just do what we did last spring? Now that's you're healthy, we can meet at night again. Come to my apartment at eleven o'clock, and stand under the streetlamp, so I can see you. I'll come out, and then we can be together without all the witnesses. _

_Yours,_

_Cosette_

Marius' first thought was that this was the perfect solution- they could be free to be together, and would not be watched over!

But then he thought of how wrong it was; they were not the same couple they had been back in the rue plumet, and where would they go? Cosette did not have a garden, there was not one nearby. He would go to her tonight at eleven, and then tell her that they could not continue this. He would only come so that she did not think he forgot about her, or so he would not be rude. But we would leave quickly. He would be honorable, and would not meet her this way.

At nine-thirty, after most of the house was already retired to bed, Marius was having doubts about his brilliantly moral decision. He was in his bedroom, writing his thoughts down, and debating who wrong it would be after all. _I am marrying her in a matter of weeks,_ he reasoned. _It's not like we'll break any important rules. Just small ones. We'll just be walking and talking- honestly, that's hardly a crime._

_But it's still wrong,_ he knew. _And who knows what could happen now that you're alone. She doesn't know what she's asking._

However, when he was walking under the streetlamp at two minutes to eleven, and he saw her silhouette in the window, he felt warmth spread through his soul, quite the opposite of the icy dark weather outside. His will to give her a quick scolding for having a wrongful idea evaporated. He waved, and she disappeared. The door to the building opened a minute later, Cosette pulling gloves over her hands, a hood over her head, her cape over her shoulders.

"Good evening darling," he said, taking her hands and brushing his lips to hers. "How is my wife tonight?"

"She is content," Cosette said, with a flirtatious smile, going up on her toes to kiss him again. "But would be better if she was actually your wife, not just waiting."

"I completely agree," he said. Then, he slipped off one of her gloves and one of his own, so they could properly hold hands. He slipped their entwined hands into the pocket of his overcoat so their skin would not be bitten by the cold.

They walked through Paris for awhile, Marius conscious of Cosette's proximity, the smell of her perfume, the feel of her hand in his and the presence of the back of her hand against his leg, the heat of which he could feel through several layers of clothing. He and Cosette spent hours walking in a large circle in her neighborhood, where a few people were still out, and talking privately, away from the nosy ears of their families.

Up until that night, Marius had only had a few hours alone with Cosette since the rue plumet, in total. At his grandfather's Christmas party, he had been her only escort, and they'd managed to catch several moments alone. Here and there on several days they'd had time to exchange a few words or maybe even a quick kiss, but no time like they'd spent in their garden.

After one in the morning, they returned to Cosette's doorstep.

"Goodnight," he said, stepping close to her and kissing her rather lingeringly on her lips.

"Goodnight," she said, leaning into him, and continuing the kiss for just a moment, before she turned and went inside.

* * *

_See, nothing happened! _he told himself. _And nothing will happen when you go back tonight, _he said the next day.

They went through the same routine. Cosette came outside, they went for a walk, their hands clasped together. But this time, they stopped and sat at a bench for a few minutes, their knees pressed together, his arms around her waist, their words hushed and hurried, as if they did not have the rest of their lives to spend together. They returned to that bench every time after that. A few nights later, their talking progressed to kisses.

When they kissed, it felt different than the times they'd kissed before. Previously, all they'd shared were short pecks, nothing more. Neither had any idea what to do with their lips, because they had next to no experience. When their kisses grew longer, softer, and more intimate, both were secretly afraid that they were doing something wrong. Was this the way people were supposed to kiss? Cosette worried Marius would think she was bad at it, he worried she would think him disappointing.

Cosette's heart was racing, and she felt the heat of his hands through the silk of her dress, resting on her hips. His lips moved against her own, and she tilted her head, and moved further towards him, the smell of his skin and the taste of him making her hands shake, and she felt something she was not familiar with: desire. It was a feeling red and hot and new, the novelty of it almost as thrilling as the feeling itself.

It suddenly struck her that Marius was a man, and she was a woman. she almost laughed- how stupid it was to suddenly realize your fiancé was a man! But it was true. She had never really thought of it before. Marius was Marius. But now he was another entity all together, someone foreign to her, someone intoxicating. She was with her husband, or her almost-husband, and she loved him, and she was kissing the man she loved in the middle of the night on a bench in Paris and she never wanted to stop.

His hands drifted, stroking her hair, her neck, her cheeks, her waist, before engulfing her and pulling her closer, at precisely the moment when she moved in, hooking her hands through his thick, dark locks.

When she was pressed against his chest, not a breath between them, he broke their kiss, and looked into her eyes. His gaze contained what it usually did; the love and adoration upon seeing her that made her feel beautiful, safe, cared for, and home. When he looked at her, she knew she was in love with the right person, and had no doubts about her future with him. But there was something else there, too. His eyes had a hungry look to them, matching how she was feeling at the time, and it made her heart race.

"Cosette, if I could marry you right this moment, I would," he declared. "If the next month until the wedding does not go quickly, I think I'll go mad."

She blushed, knowing what he was referring to- the same desire that had suddenly plagued them both. She said nothing in response; the color on her cheeks was answer enough.

They sat on the bench for a long time, before Marius took her hand. "Come. I'll take you home."

* * *

They met like that every night for two weeks. Cosette's father did not suspect, except for inquiring why she was so tired lately. She declared it to be stress about the wedding. In truth, there was a lot to be done, but grandfather and the people he hired for the preparations were handling most of it. But Valjean nevertheless believed her, as he always did.

She thought he would notice her lips being red, bruised from kissing, or note her dreamier demeanor, her mind almost constantly on other things. She thought he would notice how her eyes would darken at the sight of Marius, and how her cheeks would too, and how she was much shorter of breath around him than she once was.

Marius was returning home to the Marais later and later, and he and Cosette spent more and more time saying goodbye outside her building, and even more time sitting on their bench.

"I don't want to go inside yet," she said against Marius' lips, leaning back on the wall beside the door to the building, Marius pressed against her.

"Don't," he begged. "Stay here with me."

He pressed her jealously to him, and all was quiet for a few minutes, the only sound being their lips moving against each other, and the rustle of the silk of her skirts as they swished.

"I really should go inside," she said, but made no move to leave. Finally, Marius stepped away from her.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said. "I'll tell my grandfather you're coming after lunch, so you can sleep late."

"Thank you," she said. He reached for her hand and kissed her fingers.

"Three weeks," he said, bringing the back of her hand to his cheek. She closed her eyes in bliss.

"Then I'm finally yours," she said. "And you're mine."

"It's actually less than three weeks," he mused. "It's after three in the morning; so just twenty days."

She smiled at him. "Goodnight. Sleep well, my love."

"See you tomorrow."

When Cosette got into her bed, she was exhausted, but had so many thoughts in her head that she could not sleep just yet. She used to think that, in coming to see Marius every day, having him kiss her hand and keep their fingers entwined, she had truly known love and everything that came with it. She'd been wrong. That was love, it was true, but she knew more now.

It seemed like when she looked at him, everything in her begged for his touch, and she longed to be in his arms. She was no longer content to just look at him, and exchange a sweet smile. She wanted their life to happen _now._ Spending their nights together, private, intimate conversations, sleeping entwined, she wanted to know everything about him and wanted him to know all of her. She craved him in a way she had never imagined before.

She was almost embarrassed about it, but in the dark, with no one around but him, she could not bring herself to feel ashamed. It was not possible that his touch was wrong, not when she wanted it so, not when it was Marius, who did everything right. She doubted he had every broken a rule in his life, he was an angel. And he took such good care of her that he would never let her break a rule. So nothing they could be doing together would be wrong; he would not allow it. Moreover, she was almost his wife. As soon as she was Madame Pontmercy, no one would care what she and Marius did together, and it would not be their business anyway.

* * *

Cosette did not feel the freezing air of the February night. It was the first night of the month that they would marry, and therefore the last stretch they had to go through. Though snow and ice were all around them, neither felt the chill. On their bench in the abandoned park a few blocks from her apartment, Marius pulled the ribbons and combs from her hair, until it tumbled around her shoulders and down to the middle of her back. Despite their passionate meetings, that was the furthest he'd gone in terms of undressing her. His lips were against her jaw and her ear, and they whispered things to her as the two lay back.

His overcoat was unbuttoned, and it covered both of them like a blanket as they lay back on the bench. Cosette was only somewhat aware then of what would happen if someone saw them; she would be in so much trouble. But she could not imagine being discovered. They seemed so completely, utterly alone. And in the end, they were as near husband and wife as two people could be without actually being married.

Though his weight was not on her, their bodies were pressed together all the way to their legs, and she could feel him against her, and felt something that she'd never felt before, between them and against her, pressing through her skirts. She turned red, and, noticing her reaction in the moonlight, so did he. He looked away in embarrassment, and tried to move away from her, but she held him to her.

_She's not afraid,_ he thought. She pressed herself back against him in a way that was not entirely modest, succumbing to her feelings.

On the way back to Cosette's apartment, they stopped in a tiny crook of an alleyway.

Through their clothes- always through their clothes- Marius could feel the shapes of her body, her waist and her breasts, pressed against him so close. Cosette had all but lost her modesty with him. She thought of the way the girls in proper society acted. They used their modesty as a hook, enticed men with it, and lied with it. Cosette loved Marius, why should she lie about it? It was not as though anyone but him would ever know about this.

"I... I..." she began, loving the feeling of their bodies together, not knowing what she was feeling. "I... I don't know how to say it."

"I want you," he said, following his own line of thought.

"Yes," she said. "That's it. This is what desire is, isn't it?"

"I believe so, but I've never felt like this before," he said breathlessly. "Not until these nights with you. I couldn't even imagine what this would feel like. Cosette, after these meetings, when I see you sitting three meters away from me in my grandfather's parlor, I just want to take you in my arms, away from everyone else and make love to you-"

"We will share a room when we are married, yes?" she asked. There was barely a breath between their faces, their foreheads touching, Marius' hand laced in Cosette's still loose hair. "I can spend every night, every morning with you then."

"I wish..." he said, uselessly.

"I know."

"I wish there was somewhere we could go," he said. "Isn't there a place? Anywhere? Somewhere private?"

Cosette did not think of the repercussions- anything Marius suggested must be right, must be good, even if it was not something her father would necessarily approve of.

"The rue plumet? There's the garden, but there's also the house..."

He pondered for a minute, but then sighed and moved several paces away from her. "No. I'm sorry I suggested it- that's wrong. We can last two weeks, if we've lasted this long already."

She turned red, but knew he was right. Regretfully, she said goodbye to him in the early hours of February 2nd.

* * *

"I'm falling asleep," Cosette protested that afternoon, telling the truth. "And not feeling well. Must we go?"

"There's still so much to do!" grandfather had exclaimed a few minutes earlier. He needed Cosette's father to be there to finish the financial arrangements for the young couple, and then wanted Cosette to stay and sample food for the reception.

"I trust it will taste fine," she said politely, but subtly told Marius and her father she was not feeling way.

"You don't have a fever, do you?" Marius asked, worried that the cold from the evening before had made her sick.

"No, just a headache," she said. Cosette hated to seem ungrateful or unpleasant, so she did not tell grandfather. But she did not want to have to wait and eat all the food, and then go to the bank and sit and wait while her father discussed business.

"I have to do it, dear," her father said. "How bad do you feel?"

"I just want to lie down," she said quietly.

"Let us get going!" Grandfather said, coat already on. Even at ninety-two, he moved faster than the rest of them! "Come! Let's move!"

Valjean bit his lip. Cosette did not look well; she was pale, as she often was when her head ached.

"Monsieur Pontmercy," he began, "Will you escort Cosette home? You'll need to meet us at the bank, but your grandfather and I have business to clear up before your signatures are needed."

"Of course," he said, and draped Cosette's cape over her shoulders.

"Are we leaving?" Grandfather asked rudely.

Cosette smiled gratefully at her father.

"Excuse me, Monsieur Gillenormond. My daughter is ill-disposed, and won't be able to sample the food today."

"I trust your judgment," she said to him. She knew grandfather had a taste for sweets and good food enough to supply for the whole party.

Valjean bid goodbye to his daughter and Monsieur Pontmercy. He had found that he'd begun to trust the young man, trust him absolutely with Cosette. He actually was able to smile very fondly at the young man, who was brushing Cosette's cheek with his thumb affectionately.

* * *

As the fiacre approached Cosette's house, Marius felt guilt bubbling inside him. they'd been deceiving her father this whole time.

He got out, and told the driver to wait, and then helped Cosette out.

"Do you need anything?" he asked as they approached her door.

"No," she said. "I'll just take a nap. Toussaint will take good care of me."

"Alright then. Feel better, darling," he said.

"I promise," she said as he brushed his lips to the top of her head. "Shall I see you tonight?"

"Y- no," he said. "Cosette, your father trusts me with you. We've been deceiving him. I won't say we were really doing anything wrong- whatever happens, we're marrying in two weeks anyway- but he believes we are not meeting, and believes you to be in your bed every night and not with me, at some God-forsaken park acting like sinners."

She flinched at the harshness of his words. He saw this, and put a hand on her elbow gently.

"I adore you. But I don't want to be someone your father can't trust with you. And after yesterday, I don't know that I even trust myself with you."

"I understand," she said, nodding. "Well. The countdown begins, then, doesn't it?"

"It does," he said, looking drawn. She laughed.

"We're acting like we've been separated for life, not like we get to see each other every day for the two weeks leading up to our wedding."

"You're right," he said, smiling. "We should be more grateful. We weren't very grateful, were we?"

"Not at all," she said. "Still. I'm not exactly sorry. We did not break any important rules," she said, thinking of the one major rule they left unbroken.

"I don't know if your father would say the same," he said, but his eyes were humorous. "I should go to the bank. But I hope you feel better fast," he bid, kissing her quickly, chastely.

"See you tomorrow, then."

When she was upstairs, Cosette thought that she was not at all sorry. Despite the fact that it was wrong, she knew that she'd do it over again. She'd been able to get a taste for what they would be like as lovers, before their wedding night, and digest it, get used to that part of their relationship.

Fear was virtually impossible to her now. She fell asleep, and dreamt that Marius was holding her, kissing her, touching her, and woke up anxious for February 16 in a way she never would have been if they had not been meeting.

* * *

**PLEASE review this! Like, honestly... if you read this, let me know what you think! I know it's sexual, and different from my other chapters... but really!**


	37. Perfect

**This is a bunch of vignettes centered around one theme, which I hope gives Cosette some depth. **

* * *

"That's beautiful, Cosette," Jean Valjean said. Cosette beamed with pride.

"Shall I play another?" she asked, turning the pages of her book of short piano songs. "I've been practicing another one, too."

"Yes, please," her father said, smiling.

Cosette turned back around and faced the piano, sitting up straight like she'd been taught and placed her fingers on the ivory keys. Since they'd left the convent a month ago, they had spent many nights like this. After dinner they'd go into the living room and her father would read, and she'd do some needlework or play her music. Her father loved to listen to her, and tonight he sat clapping as she performed her pieces.

"That was perfect, Cosette," her father said, patting her shoulder.

Cosette sighed in relief. When he was out of the room, she let her shoulders slump.

* * *

"That's not good enough!" the woman shrieked. Cosette, shivering, crawled underneath the table, her skinny arms around her naked knees. Her large blue eyes, wide in fear, encountered the snarling face of the dog, who shared the space beneath the table with her. He growled as he gnawed on his bone. Cosette yelped and scooted away, wondering which was more dangerous: Madam or the dog?

A hand grabbed her by the back of her dress- or the rag that could be called one.

"Please, Ma'am," she begged as she was set roughly on her feet, trembling.

"Do it again, brat!" the woman commanded, her face red as she yelled at the girl.

"Go. But first get the firewood from the back, and start the fire. Then repair 'Zelma's stockings- they've got a hole in the toe."

"It's so cold," she murmured.

"It could be a forest fire out there and you'd still have to do it," Madame Thenardier spat. "Now if I hear you complain again, you'll be getting the splintered end of the broom. Now go!"

Cosette jerked awake, wiping her tears from her eyes. The nightmare slipped from her mind quickly, and details were already beyond her. Trembling, Cosette got out of bed and went to pour herself a glass of water.

She was thirteen years old, and her father had never once spoken of the past. Truth be told, she could not remember much, but knew it was somehow shameful. Why else would they never speak of it? And why else would she have these horrid dreams? At least once a month, she had some terrifying nightmare... she never quite remembered it, but there was always a large, cruel woman in it. In her nightmares, she was always cold, and always hungry. in her nightmares, she was always being reprimanded. She was never good enough.

She would never return to that past, whatever it was. She would never make anyone ashamed again. So every day, Cosette stood up straight and smiled. She would never let her father down, for if she did, who knows what would happen? Maybe even he had a bit of that cruel woman inside of him, and Cosette would be punished again. She would not let that happen.

If she ever felt like arguing with her father, she always resisted. After all, he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She must not ruin it, and make him disappointed. She would be perfect.

* * *

"Cosette is good at that, aren't you?" her father said with a smile. "You adore embroidery."

Cosette hated embroidery. She often stuck her fingers and always felt a knot in her neck, and the hours of reclining made her back ache. She much preferred tatting or crocheting, where she could carry on a conversation and just let her hands do the work, without having to bend down so much.

"That would be wonderful," Toussaint said. "This place needs some sprucing up," she said. It was true; the apartment in the rue de l'Ouest was dreary. Cosette was fourteen, and they had just moved out of her adored rue Plumet for "a change of scenery." They'd be spending some time in another neighborhood.

"I would be happy to decorate," Cosette said pleasantly, with enthusiasm. "I think I'll use very bright colors, to bring some joy. How does that sound, father?"

* * *

Cosette had one vexation; she was not beautiful. Actually, she was homely. But it actually seemed to please her father. He told her she was beautiful, and looked insulted whenever the nuns had said she was homely. But she knew that for some reason, deep down he was glad she was not beautiful. She could see the relief on his face when they went out, and no one stared at her.

So one day, when she found herself to be beautiful, she at first felt triumphant. To be beautiful!

But her father did not want her to be beautiful. She tried to think of herself as ugly for a long time, but found very shortly that her beauty could not be disguised. It gave her pleasure to be beautiful, too.

"Well," she said to herself, "If I cannot make him happy by being homely, I can be the most beautiful woman there ever was. I shall be so good at it, I can make him happy that way."

Cosette bought new clothes, women's clothes, beautiful clothes. She carried herself with pride and grace, acquired a slightly different tone of speech, and learned to tilt her head when she laughed and look through her eyelashes at people.

She noticed her father was happy again, after the initial scare of her beauty. She believed she had succeeded; what she did not realize was that all Valjean wanted was for her to be happy. Cosette had gotten so good at acting happy, that he had no idea it was fake. He was happy to see her happy, nothing more.

And, if she had to say whether she was content or not, she would say she was. Cosette wanted for nothing. But every night, she retired exhausted, her mind aching because of all the work it had done that day. And, often enough to make sure she never forgot, that horrible woman interrupted her sleep, calling her a filthy slut, a brat, a bastard, an imbecile, a rat, horrible names that made Cosette shiver. She would never go back to that again.

* * *

After years of this act, Cosette met Marius. Marius, who adored her. Marius, who asked nothing from her. Not a thing. He asked not for complements, for smiles, for her love. Perhaps it was because he did not ask that she so readily gave those things to him. Cosette had never experienced anything remotely close to love before, and then it fell right into her lap. It could have scared her, had she fallen for anyone but Marius. But he was perfect for her; not only did he not ask for her love, he almost fearfully stayed away from asking for her body. He did not even try to kiss her. Sometimes she wondered if he even wanted to, but then he would kiss her hand or her hair and she would know he _did_ want to, he just wouldn't. She loved him more for this.

Cosette breathed easily with him. She talked, but instead of cheerful chatter, she talked about real things. He talked to her about politics, and she understood little- and did not really care that much about it- but she liked listening to him, and she liked that he wanted to tell her these things. She liked that he wanted to hear what she thought about things other than the weather.

Cosette dressed up for him every night, and did her hair in the best way, and wore her prettiest gowns. But it was not because she believed he would stop loving her if she was not perfect. She _wanted_ to look beautiful for him, because she knew she was pretty and thought it perfectly fine to show off a little. He did the same thing. His hair had been mussed one night- he'd been caught late and ran to her garden, and was windswept- and she'd complemented it, thinking he looked handsome that way. She noticed with quiet pride that he'd worn it similarly every day since. He also flaunted his knowledge of politics and writing the same way she flaunted hers of music and emotions. They wanted to appear their best for each other.

* * *

As Cosette spent more time with Marius, she began to realize how much she resented the act she fronted with her father. She wondered how necessary it was. Her father clearly loved her, so why did she need to act perfect? But then she'd have another nightmare, and remember. Marius loved her, but he did not know her secret, whatever it was. _She_ did not even know the secret, but her father did. Somehow, everything always came back to that. There was something shameful in her past, something she needed to make up for, something her father never forgot.

Cosette always assumed it was she he was ashamed about.

* * *

Cosette was feeling extremely unimportant, but in the greatest way one can. She lay on her back on the thick grass in the garden of the rue plumet on a clear night, staring at the stars above her. It was a full moon, and the sky was lit up into a dark, velvety blue. She felt such a profound connection to the stars and to God.

She was just a piece in the whole world- nothing more, but also a loved piece of God's world. A very fortunate piece, too, especially with what had been happening to her lately. Cosette sighed and smelled the perfume of the flowers and the thick, warm summer air, and wondered if she had ever felt better.

God obviously loved her, He loved everyone He created. Maybe she'd been going about this wrong; when she had moments like this, she was confident that God loved her as she was. So her act must be unnecessary.

Marius turned over, propping himself on his elbow beside her.

"You look so beautiful," he said, touching her cheek very lightly with his fingers. She smiled, warmed by his touch and his presence. "Sometimes I wonder if you're even real..."

She turned away immediately, disheartened.

"What is it?" he asked, sitting up. "Did I say something wrong?"

"I'm real," she said forcefully.

"I know you are," he said, bewildered. "I just meant, it's so new and exciting, and dreamlike, what's happened between us in the past few weeks. Did you believe this would happen to you? Could you foresee it?"

She softened and smiled at him. "No. I wouldn't have guessed in a hundred years."

"I also meant, I wonder sometimes. You're an angel, Cosette, you're perfect. You're my angel."

She stiffened again. "Please don't say that."

"Cosette, I don't mean to hurt you-" He sounded scared, as she sat up, crossing her arms over her chest and looking very upset.

"I know you don't," she said. "But I am not perfect."

"Is it wrong for me to think so?"

"Yes!" she beseeched. "Because I'm not, and I won't ever be, and you should know that now."

"Cosette, I don't expect you to be perfect," he said, and then realized he'd contradicted himself. "I guess I meant... well, you're perfect to me. I haven't seen flaws yet."

"I make mistakes every day. At least five before breakfast."

"Mistakes are different than flaws."

"But they are imperfections," she said with conviction.

"Fine," he said with a smile. "Then I really could care less if you were perfect or not. None of it detracts from that fact that you are perfect for _me._"

"That's different," she allowed. "I'm not arguing with that. But I'm not an angel."

"You've never thought you found someone on earth who couldn't possibly just be like everyone else? Someone who's brought you to happiness, from loneliness and sorrow?"

"That's an awful lot to put on one person," she said, feeling pressure now. She thought of her father, though. He really had brought her out of the depths of hell- whatever they had been- and brought her to happiness. He had been that person for her.

Marius bent his head. "I'm not being very clear tonight, am I? I don't want you to feel like I'm expecting anything from you."

_I know, _she wanted to say. _But sometimes when someone doesn't pressure you, it creates an even greater sense of duty, and makes you nervous. I've been living like that for years and years now._

"Let me explain," he said. "I used to be lonely. I had my friends, I had my books and my work, I had everything I needed, but I was still alone. My friends... they are different men than I. I had no one to talk to, not for real. I had books, politics. They can drive a person; I can respect those things, but I cannot love them. Then I fell in love with you, and... suddenly I had something that was my own. I don't mean you- I mean my love for you; it was mine to give and share, but mine all the same. Then I _met_ you, for real, and you are different from anyone I've ever known. Your presence has changed my life, Cosette; every day I look forward to seeing you in the evenings with a joy that I've never felt before about anything. I'm happier sitting beside you than I have been doing anything that other people praise as great joys- I grew up in a wealthy household, I've gone to parties, I've studied and I've even travelled a bit with my grandfather. But those things don't bring me the joy I have right here, in this garden, with you. I look at you, and I know you are different than the others in the world. Why else would I love you and not anyone else? You're different. I see it every night when you let me come here."

Cosette had no other words; she fell into Marius' arms, and wished that she could remember the moment forever, the summer night and the crickets and the stars and him, Marius.

* * *

"I don't understand it!" Cosette exclaimed, pacing in front of the fire late one night after one of her father's visits. "Why did he suddenly decide to be so odd? It's as if he's stopped loving me!"

"No one has stopped loving you."

"That you know of," Cosette shot back at her husband, but then sighed, crawling up onto the bed with him and tucking her feet beneath her, how a child sits. "I just don't know what's wrong, and why he's suddenly angry with me."

"He has no reason to be angry with you! I assure you, it's him, not you."

"It's possibly both," she argued. "Maybe he is being selfish, I'll give you that. He can't stand it now that he's not the only person I love, and that I don't have all the time in the world for him. Fine. But I have been rather inattentive of him, more so than was necessary, and I ignored him. He gave me _everything _Marius, don't you understand? I owe him more than a smile and a 'goodbye.'"

"Gratitude is different than servitude," he said. "And you are not a child anymore. You can't be there for him all the time. He wants you to be a little girl again- that's perfectly natural, but it's also impossible."

"But... it makes _me_ feel guilty," she said, feeling the familiar tightening of her throat. "Like I've failed him. After all the time I've spent trying to please him, I've failed, and he doesn't love me anymore..." tears streaked down her cheeks, as her ultimate insecurity was realized. "I failed him."

* * *

Cosette never really understood until she had children of her own. Each day, she saw their faces looking up to her expectantly, looking for praise. They were so eager to please, but they did not need to be. Though she was sometimes angry with her children, or frustrated, she loved them more than anything else in the world and would do anything for them. Despite mistakes they'd made, foolish decisions, and unkind words said, she loved them. Looking back, her father had felt the same way about her, and she did not understand.

Cosette never found out what had happened to her in the past, but she knew after having her own children that it did not matter. If something bad had happened to one of her sons or daughters, she would not love them less for it- the opposite. She would want to protect them, and to ensure their happiness and their safety. She was ashamed that she's doubted her father that way. She couldn't change her actions now; she could only love her children as much as she could.


	38. Saying Goodbye

**Title: The Affect of Angels**  
**Summary: Cosette and Marius take some time away in order to reorganize their thoughts**  
**Rating: T**

One day in late June, 1833, Marius was at his desk in his study, trying to distract himself with some work. Cosette's father had died a little over a month ago, and they were both still weighed down by the guilt, the sadness, the itch to tell him things, and the utter sorrow surrounding their home. Cosette was in his study, too; she'd been reading on the couch across the room, but when Marius looked over at her she was just laying down on her back, staring at the cieling.

He went back to his own reading, but had read the same sentence several times before Cosette interrupted him.

"I keep forgetting he's gone," she said thoughtfully. "I keep thinking of things to tell him, and then it hits me again."

"I never forget," Marius said. "Every minute of every day, it's hanging over my head."

Cosette was silent for a long time, before she sighed. "I just wish I could get away from all this for even a few days. Away from Paris. Everything about Paris reminds me of him. And this _black._ I know I should mourn, it's proper and well and good. But I can't wear black any longer; it's like a constant reminder of him in the worst possible way. This has been the worst month of my life."

"I agree," Marius said, shaking his head and trying to get the ache out of the back of his neck. Then it dawned on him. "Cosette, we could go away you know."

"We can?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "We have the money. Why, your father wanted us to spend it. It would be good for you to get out of this environment, and I can't say I'd mind it either."

"Where would we go?" she asked. She had never been away on any sort of holiday.

"You can pick," Marius said. "I know you wanted to go to Italy, and several other countries. But do you just want to relax?"

"I've never been to the sea."

"That sounds perfect," he said with a smile. "I'll look into what we can find!"

* * *

One week later, Cosette and Marius had loaded their belongings into a carriage, which would take them south for the day, and the first part of their journey. They fell asleep during the hours spent in the coach, and then spent the night in an inn, repeating the process again until they reached Marseilles.

They were renting a cottage on the beach, a few kilometers from anyone else. There was a small town about fifteen kilometers away from their cottage with a store to buy food and a docking station to rent boats, horses and the houses.

The house itself was on the beach, enclosed partially by trees and by sheer isolation. It had a small porch overlooking pine trees and the dirt road, with a stone pathway. The house had a small bedroom, a living room and a kitchen with a pantry attached.

One the first full day they were there, they took advantage of the isolated beach and Marius taught Cosette to swim.

She was dressed in a pair of his cotton pants rolled to her knees and her chemise, the sun on the skin of her arms and calves.

"I don't know," she said, fearful as the waves crashed on the beach. "How deep is it?"

"Watch me," Marius said, and went into the water. He looked through the clearer patches at the bottom, and found that there were patches of rock, but most of it was smooth sand. "Look how far out I am!" he called from almost thirty meters out, the water only to his waist. "It's shallow here, and the water's warm."

After he trekked back to the shore, he took her hands and drew her with him into the water, slowly walking out into the ocean. Waves lapped around them, and Cosette started with the coolness of it.

"You said it was warm," she protested.

"You'll get used to the temperature in a minute or so," he said. "Especially if you put your head under really fast."

Cosette shook her head, her eyes frightened.

"I'll do it with you. You're perfectly safe," he said, putting his hands on her waist. "Here, we'll go together. One... two..."

She plunged into the water, and felt the cold rush, followed instantly by a sort of relief; her body had already gotten used to the water.

Then she was thrown into confusion- Cosette felt the force of a wave push her, but since she was under the surface, she was disoriented. Before she could panic about which way was up, she felt Marius' hands on her waist pulling her to the surface.

She wiped her eyes, laughing and gasping as another wave hit, crashing against her shoulders and spraying the green Mediterranean water about them. Before she opened her eyes again, she felt herself pulled against her husband, and kissed him, tasting the salt of the water on his skin.

She broke away, laughing, and ducked under the water. Marius couldn't see her through the green murk, she knew, and she swam around him, and came up in the water very quietly, before springing onto his back, laughing wildly.

He unhooked her hands from around his neck and pushed her off so she fell into the water. When she stood, he glared at her.

"Don't do that."

She howled.

* * *

Cosette hummed to herself, stirring the fresh strawberry jam she'd made. The key scraped in the lock, and she looked up to see her husband comig through the door.

"Hello!" she said, greeting him with a smile. "How was town?"

"Fine," he said, putting some parcels down on the counter, and began to put them away. Marius had walked into town that morning, and gone to get some necessities and mail some letters. "The carriage ride back was welcome."

Marius walked behind his wife and put his arms around her, encircling her waist. "You smell nice," he said, kissing her neck.

"Lavender," she said. "I took a bath," he said, flicking her wet hair, woven into a braid.

"Just for me?"

"Hmm, you can think that. Or it could be that the salt water made my hair thick and coarse and unpleasant. Now..." she said, and dipped her finger in the jam. "Taste."

He obeyed. She waited a moment. "Good?"

"Very good."

"Nicolette gave me the recipe, since I told her there'd be fresh strawberries here."

"It's delicious."

"Ok," Cosette said, and put her fingers back in to the bowl to get some more. She lifted it up for him to taste, but then smeared it on his mouth.

"What are you doing?" he asked, stepping back and laughing.

Cosette just laughed, still playful like a child in so many ways. "Here, have some more!" she said, and smeared some more on.

"No, you!" he said, and smeared her own face.

This continued until they both looked like ill-groomed two-year-olds, and they collapsed in a fit of giggles and a sugary, guey kiss.

* * *

"Darling?" Cosette called through the empty house.

"I'm out here," she heard through the window.

Cosette walked out onto the porch and saw her husband sitting on a bench, looking up. There were almost no lights around, so the stars were extremely plentiful and bright.

She sat with him, and he put his arms around her.

"It's so beautiful," she said, feeling his lips on her hair. "I'm glad we came here."

"So am I," he said. "It wasn't a distraction from what happened. But it put it in perspective."

"I think..." she took a deep breath. "Maybe it was his time to go. He seemed to know, didn't he? We was perfectly calm about it all the whole time. He was comforting _us._"

"Yes," Marius agreed. "He was unusually at peace. Maybe he did know."

Cosette closed her eyes and her head lolled against Marius' shoulder. "Maybe an angel told him," she said. "I think there was an angel there for him."

She did not move again for a long time, perhaps having fallen asleep. Marius looked down at his wife by the light of the moon, and finally responded. "I think so too."

* * *

They spent the summer at the cottage, swimming and cooking and laughing, telling childhood stories the other had never heard before. It was remarkable; they could share the rest of their lives with each other, they could share as many memories as they could think of, they could share their bodies, but there was still so much they did not know about the other, no matter how much time they spent together.

One morning, Cosette woke in the happy bed they shared, with a colorful light patchwork quilt. She rose, and saw the house was empty. Out the window, she saw Marius sitting by the beach, reading in a chair overlooking the waves.

The grass was slongey and still wet from the dew as she walked out to him. "Reading already?"

He looked up and smiled, moving his book so she could sit on his knees. "I mustn't fall behind."

She smiled at him, and then looked out at the waves, in contentment. "I have something to tell you," she said, still looking away.

"And what's that?" he asked.

"Well... see I'm not entirely sure but in the last few months I've gotten more information about this sort of thing- it used to be that no one told me _anything_ at all, but now people tend to answer my questions, thank goodness- and after all this time spent here, I'm starting to think... Well, that time when we spent the night on the beach, it was different from all the others, don't you remember? And now, well all the signs are there..."

"Cosette," he said, looking her right in the eye. "What is it?" he asked, although he was pretty sure he knew.

She took a deep breath. "I think... I think we're going to have a baby."

Cosette, dazed after finally telling him this news- telling him had made it real- just felt herself pulled against him, and felt his lips on her own. But her smile was not just for her husband, and for what this baby meant for them. She couldn't help but think that it was a sign. A new life, given to her so soon after an old one was taken... well, it must be the affect of an angel, surely?


	39. Personal Tragedies

**Title: Personal Tragedies  
Summary: Marius and Cosette, called Fortunatus and Fortunata, have losses too.**

Marius awoke for the sixth night in a row to find the oil lamp lit, the bedroom bathed in golden light. Cosette was sitting up beside him, her chemise up over her belly, looking at her abdomen.

Instead of going back to sleep, like he had on other nights, he sat up. "You should enjoy sleeping when you can," he said drowsily. "I heard that, in a few months, it will be hard to come by."

"I can't," she said, her eyes wide and excited in that distinctly _Cosette_ way that always made Marius' heart flip. "I mean, I'm only pregnant for nine months, compared to all the months spent _not _pregnant. I want to enjoy it."

"Still," he said. "It's probably good for the both of you just to sleep."

She brightened, obviously glad to be referred to that way.

"What time is it?" Marius asked, and Cosette shrugged. He looked at the clock on the mantle across the room. "Cosette, it's after three in the morning! Have you been up all night?"

"I can't help it," she said, shaking her head. "Tell me... I think I can already tell. Can't you?" She ran her hand over her abdomen. "I'm already showing."

"Cosette," Marius said, laying back down. "You are not even two months pregnant. The baby is probably smaller than one of these buttons," he said, flicking one the buttons on the cuff of his nightshirt.

"Hush, you," she said, but pouted, actually hurt.

"But I can tell," he said to appease her.

She instantly cheered up. "You can?"

"Yes," he said honestly. Not from her belly, but he could tell. There was just something different about her now. He leaned over her and pressed his lips to her cool skin, just under her navel. It was amazing and terrifying; his child was so close to him, in a completely different world. Just a finger's width or so away, and yet completely inaccessible.

Smiling, Cosette settled back against the pillows, put at ease.

* * *

"I don't want to go," Marius said, putting his suitcase down.

"I know," Cosette said, "But it's only four days."

"Four days away from you..." he said.

"Oh, don't start that," Cosette said, waving him off, ever practical. "You'll be fine. We'll survive. I'll see you on Friday."

"Fine. If you're so eager to see me go, I'll just-"

"You don't need to whine," Cosette said, and kissed him. "You know I'll miss you, but you'll be back on Friday and I'm sure you'll have all kinds of stories for me."

"Alright," Marius said, putting a smile on and kissing her again. "I love you and I'll see you soon."

"I love you, too."

* * *

Marius was in the carriage ride back from his meeting with another lawyer. He had recently gotten back into the process, and was interviewing with a firm whose main office was in the city, but the main partner was taking time off in the country. Marius was already angry about this- if he was taking time off, why was he interviewing people? He asked that anyone interviewing for a position come to his office in the country, so he could hire for the new fiscal year. It was the end of August, and Marius would have much rather spent his time differently.

Still, the interview had gone well and instead of practicing here and there, he might actually be signed somewhere. They told him he would get something in the mail in the new week or so, but he had already let his thoughts drift from work. It was late, and he was almost home.

He closed his eyes and pictured what he would do. The house would be sleeping- it was nearly midnight- but he was hungry, so he'd go into the kitchen and get some of the bread the cook made that was so fluffy and delicious. Then he'd go upstairs and very quietly change and wash and go to bed, where he could hopefully sleep until nearly midday.

But when Marius got out of the carriage in front of his house in the Marais, he saw most of the lights still on. Curious, and nervous, he opened the door.

No one was near the entryway or in the drawing room, but as he made his way into the kitchen he nearly walked right into Nicolette, who was coming down the stairs.

She was talking to him, but he didn't really hear her. Something about a doctor leaving a note for him and he would be returning in the morning... what? Was grandfather ill? Nicolette did not say who was sick.

Marius brushed past her and went upstairs, where he immediately saw the door was open to his and Cosette's bedroom, the lights on, the bed stripped. In the corner lay some sheets, stained with blood.

"Oh, God..." Marius said. He turned and saw his aunt, eyes wide. Marius did not have the energy to notice that her hair, usually pulled into a tight arrangement on top of her head, was down around her shoulders for the first time he'd ever seen.

"What happened?" he asked, frightened.

"Your wife... she should tell you."

"Is she alright? Where is she?" Marius asked, now very fearful.

"In there," she said, pointing a room across the hall.

Marius nodded, and then turned. He opened the door, and found Cosette laying on her side, eyes open, staring.

"Marius," she said softly.

"Cosette, _cherie..._" he said, at a loss. "Are you alright?"

Her face crumpled, and she put her hands over her eyes. Marius moved to the bed and sat on it, taking her in his arms.

"I'm... we... Our baby is dead," Cosette sobbed.

Marius held her tighter. "I know," he whispered. "I know... Are you hurt?"

That was the wrong question to ask. She sobbed harder, making a moaning sound that he'd never heard from her before, something not quite human. He pulled away, and kept his hands on her shoulders, and looked her in the face.

"We'll get through this," he said. "The doctor is coming tomorrow. We'll have another baby."

"But not... _this_ baby," she said, pulling herself closer to him again. "We'll never get this one back. And what if... what if it's me? What if we never have a baby because I can't..."

"Don't say that," Marius said. "There's no way of knowing that, not yet. It's just God's will. I'm just glad you're not sick."

Cosette sobbed more, knowing that, if she had to make a choice, she'd take illness rather than losing her child. But she just let Marius hold her, because that was the best she could have at the moment.

* * *

**I would love if you would review this! I haven't gotten many reviews lately and I would love to hear what people think.**


	40. A Suspicion

**Title: A Suspicion****  
****Summary: Valjean has a fleeting suspicion, which gives Cosette a fleeting hope**

"Thank you for taking me out tonight," Cosette said to Marius as they turned to an abandoned street on their walk home. She unhooked their arms from the stiff, socially accepted way of walking with ones' spouse and gripped his hand instead. "I know you did not want to go."

"It was not so bad."

"You are sweet."

They walked in silence for a while, before Marius felt himself suddenly gripped and pressed to a wall, his hand torn from Cosette's.

"Don't scream or move," a gruff voice said in his ear. "I have a knife, and so does my friend here."

"Where is my wife?" Marius demanded. He heard Cosette gasp in pain from behind him, by way of answer. "Unhand us at once!"

"Play nice and we will," the voice said. "Now where's your money?"

Marius felt a cool blade against his neck, and heard Cosette gasp again. He thought it best to do as was told. "In the pocket of my coat."

A hand fumbled through his coat, until he found Marius' wallet.

He heard a fumbling sound, and Cosette's fast, frightened breathing, before the man hit him squarely in the back.

"Thirty francs!" he said. "Where's the rest?"

"What rest?" Marius asked. He did not carry much money on him- he and Cosette had just dined and paid. He was carrying an excessive amount compared to what he usually transported with.

"I see the lady's dress! You're rich! Where's the rest?"

"There's nothing on me!" he said. He heard a slapping sound, and Cosette cried out.

He was still not positive whether or not Cosette's father's money was legitimate; though Cosette had inherited beautiful gowns from his grandfather, their fortune remained what Marius earned from law and from his family. Marius did not live his life like a rich man.

"I swear I have nothing! And unhand her- she has nothing on her! She has no money!"

Fighting against the man pressing him against the bricks, Marius found he could not budge. The man turned him around though, keeping the blade of the knife pressed to his neck. He saw Cosette in much the same position, a small man whose face was covered in shadow holding a knife to her own neck, her wrists in a vice grip behind her. The man twisted them, and she gasped again- that must have been what he was doing before.

"I gave you my money," he said through his teeth. "Now let us both go."

"Shut up!" the man holding Marius said, and his fist came in contact with Marius' right cheek and the bridge of his nose. He saw stars for a few minutes, quickly accompanied by that sick feeling one gets after being punched on that thin, sensitive bone.

"She has some," Marius' assailant continued, as if he knew for sure. He jerked his head at her. "Do you have some?"

"In my change purse," Cosette said. The man holding her tried to grab her purse, but she did not let him. She tore her hand away and threw it as far as she could, landing in the shadows of the alleyway to their right.

"Bitch," the man holding Marius swore under his breath. "Go get it."

"She'll run!" the small man said. "I can't let her go!"

Marius looked hard at Cosette, willing her to run home if she had the chance.

"True," the man said. They looked at both Marius and Cosette. "I know." He pressed Marius back against the wall, and the smaller man did the same to Cosette. They heard footsteps, as one of the men left to find the bag Cosette had thrown. The other man kept one of his hands on each of their backs.

"I can't find it!" the man yelled.

"You damned fool! Keep looking!"

"I've got it- but there's only a few coins in here!"

The leader, who was holding the Pontmercys, let go of Marius and gripped the back of Cosette's collar, throwing her to the ground. Taking his chance, Marius whipped around and took the small knife he had out of his belt. He did not help Cosette up yet, preferring not to bend down and expose the back of his neck, but stood over her as she got to her feet.

"Step back," he ordered. "We've given our money. Let us go or I _will_ kill you."

"There's two of us with knives, and only you," the small man leered as he returned to Marius.

Marius continued to glare at them, knife in hand. The two men, despite outnumbering Marius, looked uncomfortable now that they had an armed opponent.

When they did not step towards him for a long moment, Marius put a hand on the small of Cosette's back and pushed her in the opposite direction. They started to run, and did not stop until they reached a populated street, lit with streetlamps.

"Are you alright?" Marius asked.

"I think so," Cosette said. Marius reached for her hand, but she winced. He pulled away immediately, and saw blood on his own palm. "I scraped my hands on the pavement when I fell- I'll be fine."

"Come, let's get a cab," he said, and then swore. "Right- we don't have any money. Come, it will take a long time to get home on only main streets, but we'll get there."

After almost an hour, Marius and Cosette returned to the sleeping house in the Marais. They sat in the kitchen with gauze, some alcohol, and water, and dressed the small slits on each other's necks that the knife threatening had caused. Marius cleaned and bandaged Cosette's hands and the scrape on her cheek from when she fell. She had bruises on her wrists from the thief's grip, and would develop one on her cheek from when he slapped her. The bruise on Marius' face would be worse.

"Let's go to bed," Marius said tiredly. They were both shaken, but Cosette especially, who had never encountered anything like that before. They started to make love, but exhaustion overtook them and they fell asleep.

* * *

"Hello Monsieur," Cosette said brightly the next day to the man who used to be her father.

His eyes widened. "Cosette!" he let slip, but did not seem to notice. At first Cosette was overjoyed that he seemed to know her again, and love her like he used to. But the look in his eye was terrified.

"What happened to you?" he asked, walking up to her swiftly and gently taking her hand in his own, looking at her bruised wrists and the shadow on her cheek.

"Nothing," Cosette said, and tried to change the subject.

"That is not true," he said. "Something happened; why else would you be so bruised?"

"I'm fine," she brushed him off. "Isn't it absolutely gorgeous outside today?"

"Please!" he said seriously. "If you're fine and nothing happened, you wouldn't be looking like this. These bandages- what are they hiding?"

Cosette rolled her eyes. "Fine. I assure you, nothing important happened. Last night my husband and I were accosted on the street. I fell and scraped my hands. We're fine."

"You were robbed?" he exclaimed.

"Yes, but Marius didn't have much money on him anyway and we got away."

She was too calm about this, Valjean decided. Why wasn't she shaken and horrified? Wouldn't she want his help? Valjean was suspicious. The Cosette who had lived with him would have been shaken for weeks if she was accosted by thieves. If she was encountered by anything bad, she would never recover. Yes, she always hid her pain, but if she encountered thieves- ha! like himself!- she would not recover.

So she could be hiding her feelings again, protecting those she loved. Like always.

"Madame," he said stiffly. "Is your husband home?"

"Yes," Cosette said distractedly. "He's upstairs. Why?"

"May I speak to him?"

Cosette smiled, instantly hopeful. Did this mean her father wanted to be part of her life again? He wanted to come upstairs. Surely that was better than wanting to meet in this terrible room!

"Yes," she said. "Why?"

"I just want to ask him about what happened," Valjean said innocently.

Cosette turned and was going to lead her father up the stairs when she stopped. "You can stay for dinner too if you like," she said. "It will be ready in about half an hour-"

"No, I just want to speak to him for a minute," he said stiffly.

Cosette stilled, sensing for the first time that this was not what she thought it was. "Is there something you cannot ask me?"

"I would just like to hear his account of this, that's all. Is he as bruised as you?" His tone was light, too light and innocent.

"Well, his face is- wait." Cosette grew very angry. "Do you suspect that _Marius_ did this to me?"

"No," Valjean said instantly.

"I should hope not," Cosette said curtly. "I told you what happened. And to answer your question, yes. He is just as bruised a me."

Valjean did not know what he was hoping for. The last thing he would want would be for anything bad to happen to Cosette, and a husband who hit her would surely be that. But he still had a protective sense about him that he was the only person apt to take care of her, and when he saw her bruises, he'd thought maybe...

If Marius had done something like this to her, Cosette would come home.

It was a horrible thought. But it had gone through his head.

"I know," he said. "I wanted to ask something else. But never mind, Madame."

"Pardon?" Cosette asked, very confused, still standing halfway up the stairs.

"Your husband is very good," he said. "Goodbye, Madame."

"No, you don't have to leave yet!" she said frantically. "Stay! Eat with us!"

"No, I don't think that is a good idea. But it's very gracious of you. I'm sure you have other company. Your own friends, no doubt, much better company than I."

"No one is coming," Cosette said. "Are you sure you don't want to come upstairs?"

"Yes, thank you. Goodbye." He spoke the last word dejectedly, and left. Cosette stood, confused and dejected, behind him.


	41. Something Sparkly and Playing

**Title: Something Sparkly  
Summary: Cosette and Marius are the utmost attraction at Gillenormond's party**

Cosette was extremely nervous as she smoothed her skirt down. It was her first public appearance with Marius. Grandfather Gillenormond was holding his annual Christmas Eve party, and she was invited. She'd never been to any kind of fancy function before, and when she met Marius she would have hardly pictured him as someone who attended events or parties like this one. She'd hardly envisioned herself taking part of the bourgeoisie social life because she married him, but here they were.

"You're going to be fine," he said as they came down the stairs to greet some of the guests who had arrived, his hand lightly on her elbow like an escort. "They will love you. Besides, I haven't been to one of his parties in almost five years. Many people won't recognize me, so I don't think we'll have much attention on us at all."

"No," Cosette said, instantly seeing the problem with this. "They _will_ recognize you, and be very excited to see you and they'll all comment on how you're grown up now. Not to _mention_ that you now have me, making you even_ more_ of an attraction."

He turned pale, realizing the truth of her words. Marius was not good with attention; Cosette was, but she was in a completely new environment. He could not rely on her charm to get by tonight; it was his job to make her feel comfortable, since he actually knew these people.

"Cosette, this is Monsieur and Madame de Lourney. Monsieur, Madame, this is my fiancée, Mademoiselle Cosette Fauchelevent."

Cosette turned red as the people she was introduced to- invariably all much older than she and Marius- cooed over them, complementing them both incessantly.

"Well aren't you just _beautiful,_" one of Gillenormond's friend's wives said, looking at Cosette for long enough to make her uncomfortable. Why was it that because she was young, she was suddenly the most interesting thing at the party?

Cosette was a good conversationalist, but she was also somewhat shy and humble. Most of the conversation she encountered centered around herself and Marius, which kept her talking almost the whole night. She would have much preferred another type of conversation, where she could listen quietly in the background and chime in only when she had something funny or smart to say.

"The next party we'll be at will be our wedding," Marius pointed out. "And we'll have even _more_ attention there."

"True," Cosette said. "But I don't think I'll mind then. Everyone is invited because of us, and the whole party is thrown for us. Of _course _we're the center of attention. This way, I feel as though I am stealing the attention away from your grandfather, and I feel sorry about that."

Marius rolled his eyes. "Do _not_ be sorry you're taking some attention away from that man. The last thing he needs is more attention!"

Cosette laughed at the truth of this, and then the table quieted as Monsieur Gillenormond stood up to make a toast, slightly tipsy from the Christmas wine. As usual, he blathered on for much longer than necessary.

To Marius and Cosette's embarrassment, he devoted a good portion of his speech to them, and how Marius had recently come home to him, and now he was getting married. They sunk into their seats a little, cheeks tinged red, as the large party of elderly people listened. Once dinner resumed, everyone wanted to talk to them once more.

"How did you two meet?" was the most common question asked, but they also asked Cosette all about her upbringing- tsking a little when they heard she was a complete nobody. What made Marius come home was also a common topic, and one they had to avoid- no one could know that he had been in the fighting.

As soon as dessert was done and people were up and about, Marius took Cosette's arm again. "Want to go out onto the terrace?" he whispered.

"Yes," she said too soon. It was freezing outside, but it was better than being gawked at.

* * *

**Title: Playing  
Summary: Marius' children abuse him**

"My turn!" Isabel said, hopping up and down and extending her arms up.

"Alright," Marius said, and picked up one of the babies. Well, Isabel and her twin were two at that time, but everyone in the house called them 'the babies' since they were so little. He bounced her up, and she giggled, putting her chubby little arms around her father's neck.

"All of you," Marius said, turning to the other three on looking children. "Go sit on the bed."

They obeyed, and he had the comical treat of watching Marie, six, climb haphazardly onto his and Cosette's large bed, and then the other two, who were even smaller, try to climb up on their own. Marie helped them up, and finally they were out of harm's way. "Alright. One," he warned. "Two... three!"

He began to spin, and Isabel's laughter bounced about the room. Then, he flopped onto the bed, and Isabel crawled off him.

"Me next!" Courfeyrac whimpered.

"You already went!" Marie whined.

"So did you!"

"I'm just trying to keep things fair!" Marie protested.

"I think that's it for today," Marius said, feigning tiredness. He yawned and sat up, stretching.

"_No!"_

All four of the children protested greatly, shrieking and whining. He turned around and saw, to his amusement, four sets of varying versions of his own eyes go from delighted to heartbroken at the thought of their game ending.

"_Please,_ papa?" they demanded. "Just a few more minutes!"

Marie was overtaken by a burst of energy, and started to yell. "Don't end the game don't end the game don't don't don't!" while jumping up and down on the bed.

"No," Marius said sharply, nipping this in the bud before the four tiny children jumped and flung themselves off then bed and onto the floor, like little jumping beans. He grabbed Marie about the waist to stop her jumping, and she kicked in playful protest. "I think playtime is about done."

They argued again, and Marie climbed onto her father's back, arms around his neck and her legs hooked around his chest. He stood, and the twins each grabbed one of his legs, trying to hold him down despite weighing very little. Jean, not wanting to be left out, threw his arms around his father's waist.

"Stay!" they all commanded. He looked down at his feet, which were wearing two-year-olds for shoes, and realized he did not have much choice.

The door to the bedroom opened them. Cosette entered, eyes wide, and observed her husband, children hanging off him like ornaments on a Christmas tress.

"What on earth is going on up here? I keep hearing screams!"

"Um, playtime?" Marius said, as Marie attempted to climb over the top of his shoulder, hitting him in the face in the process. "Marie!"

He grabbed her before she fell to the floor, and righted her so he was holding her properly.

Marius got an idea then, and leaned down, whispering something to the four. They grinned and nodded, and then all four ran right at Cosette, throwing their tiny arms around her and climbing about her like a tree.

"Have fun playing!" Marius said, and received a grimace in response.


	42. The Night After and the Night Before

**Title: The Night After****  
****Summary: This takes place immediately after "A Few More Questions."**

Cosette was sitting cross legged facing Marius, her loose, long nightgown pooling around her. He was laying against the headboard, watching her with a smile.

"So..." she said.

"Come here," he said, and opened his arms to her. She crawled forward and fell against him, until he held her close and sighed.

She gave a small smile and kissed him along his jaw and his neck until he caught her mouth to his own in a slow, sweet kiss. She put her arms behind his head and brought him in closer, deepening their embrace until she sighed and groaned lightly.

He broke away, kissing the side of her face and feeling her soft hair, as she nuzzled her face against his shoulder. He kissed her ear, her eyelids, her temple, but did not go further.

"Are you sore?" he asked softly.

She blushed, but he didn't know it, because she kept her face hidden. Wordlessly, she nodded.

"I'm sorry," he bid, not for the first time.

She shook her head, brushing it off. Untucking her head from where she'd hidden it, she kissed him deeply, drawing him close to her.

"We shouldn't..." he began. not wanting to hurt her any more. "Tomorrow night would be better, I think."

"Mm-hmm," she agreed, but didn't stop kissing him.

He understood. He desired her, but he did not just desire the finish... It had been such a long time without any kind of contact, that he wanted to kiss her, touch her, experience her. He ached to _know_ her. The way she looked, the way she felt, her body and her kisses. They didn't need to make love to experience each other that way.

He pulled her closer to him and groaned, parting her lips and feeling something new awaken when she groaned, too.

Warm hands stroked the lines of his face, his jaw and neck, his shoulders and his chest. Fingers, calm and not trembling as they were the night before, undid the buttons on his shirt, until they were touching his skin, kissing him and tasting him. He ran his hands through her soft hair, shiny and soft and left down, unlike the elaborate style it had been set in for the wedding. This was natural, how she was really like, how she looked when she woke in the morning.

"Cosette," he murmured when he lifted the hem of her nightgown, and tugged it off over her head. "You are so beautiful." Now it was his turn to taste her skin, bearing her down with her back to the bed, her loose hair spread over the pillows. He kissed her between her breasts, his breath hot on her skin, nuzzling his face against her cool stomach. His hands moved ceaselessly, memorizing, discovering, without the rush of the night before, and without anything pressing- tonight there was not purpose, no end goal in mind. Just leisure.

He gently bit the skin under her navel, and felt her bow up against him, her breathing deep. There was something intoxicating about simply observing her breathing, constant and alive and getting more and more agitated as he touched her. There was so much he did not know. He did not know she had a birthmark on her hip- how had he missed that the night before? She had another one on the inside of her leg, almost perfectly rounded.

"Marius," she bid, and he rose up, taking in the sight of her, laying prone and flushed and pink underneath him, her breath ragged and her eyes bright. She smiled at him.

It was her turn again; she finished undressing him, and stroke his stomach with an open hand, feeling his hip muscles, touching him until he trembled. She giggled.

"What is it?" he asked, catching her laughter. His eyes were very warm, adoring and inviting with their humor.

"I never thought I couldn't have this affect," she said, watching as she moved her hand lower, watching as he trembled again. She laughed again. "See? Who knew I could do that?"

"My love," he whispered, his hand on the warm, velvety small of her back, pulling her toward him until she bowed against him. He felt her breasts against his chest, the connection of their skin thrilling. "You have no idea how much control you have over me."

"And you intend to keep it that way," she said, smiling again and leaning to kiss him.

"I think you'll probably find out soon enough," he reasoned, judging by the little amount of control he had when he was near her.

She smiled, and lay down against him. She continued to gently touch him, her hands brushing over his skin the way his were, learning birthmarks and scars and the way it all looked underneath clothing. Satisfied with knowing she had the rest of her life for this, Cosette yawned and closed her eyes. It was not long before she was asleep, their warm bodies still pressed together, her arm around his waist, her leg against his until her small foot rested on his ankle. He was exhausted as well. They had not slept at all during the previous night. There was just too much that was new, too much to discover and to enjoy about being alone. They had lain together, and then kissed and touched and talked for hours, until the sun came up and they finally fell asleep, waking at almost midday.

Despite his exhaustion, Marius just enjoyed the moment he was in. The familiar feeling of desire filled him. That low burn, the liquid fire of desire that she brought out was there, but there was no rush. He had spent many, many nights- especially recently- completely alone with this feeling, accompanied by nothing but thoughts of her dancing through his mind. It was a different kind of desire that he felt when he was actually with her. The desire that crept up on him artificially through dreams or fantasies or errant thoughts was a mere shadow compared to what actually was created when they were together.

Still, he was perfectly satisfied for now. He felt the rise and fall of her chest against his own, and watched her peaceful sleeping face with a kind of protectiveness and love that overrode the lust. The fact that she _was_ there, that he would wake her up at any time and draw them both back into a passionate embrace was enough. He could, but for now he didn't need to. There was always tomorrow.

* * *

**Title: The Night Before****  
****Summary: Cosette and Marius have a discussion**

"One more practice," she begged.

Marius groaned. Cosette got up from the couch and tugged on his hand.

"I am so exhausted," he said as she dragged him to his feet. "You will not have a groom tomorrow. I won't be able to get out of bed."

"Please?" she said, pouting slightly and widening her eyes.

"Cosette," he said warningly.

She took a step closer, and took his hands, bringing them up and pressing them to her cheeks, kissing his palms. She pouted at him again.

He groaned. "You can't just do that whenever you want something."

"But it _always_ works," she said, triumphant now that she'd won. "Besides, you shouldn't be complaining that I am practically pleading with you to stand close to me and put your arms around me."

"True," he said, and put one hand on her waist, offering his other hand for her to hold. "Alright, the steps go like this..."

They practiced the dance for the twenty-seventh time that day. Marius could not believe Cosette was relying on him to teach her to dance; after all, he was about the last person one would think would be a good dancer.

And he wasn't a good dancer. But he'd had dance lessons as an adolescent, growing up a bourgeoisie. Cosette had not.

Finished, they plopped back down on the couch. They had caught a rare moment alone. Actually, it had been almost a half-hour that they'd been alone. They were the ones getting married the following day, but it seemed the rest of the house had more business to do. Besides, it was very clear that everyone had given up chaperoning them. How much trouble could they get into now?

"Are you scared?" Marius asked her for the first time.

She nodded resolutely. "I had a good time at the Christmas party, but I have not been to any other fancy outings. Besides, more of your family is coming tomorrow and I want them to like me. Hence all the practicing of the dancing."

"Everyone will love you- how could they not? Besides, no one will notice the dancing."

"I hope so," she said, biting her lip. "Are you nervous?"

"Yes," he confessed, and looked into her eyes. "Everything surrounding the event and the performance aspect of it all is terrifying to me- standing out in front of all those people and talking, being the center of attention, making a toast and dancing- I could not look forward to it less. But the parts that matter... no."

"It's the same for me," she said, smiling and leaning back against the couch in a comfortable manner, resting her head against the small mountain of stiff throw pillows. "I'm looking forward to the wedding, but it's more important to be married to you."

"Except you are very excited for the flowers," he said, knowing her. "And the cake and the decorations."

She smiled, in bliss for a moment. "Oh, yes... those... hmm. I think I might be more excited than I was letting on."

"Yes," he agreed. "And let's not forget the dress. You are _very_ excited for your dress."

"Almost uncontrollably," she admitted, beaming now, and bouncing up and down a little. "Oh, I am so happy! Think of it- back last June, we thought no one would ever let us be together... and here's an entire day just devoted to the fact that we love each other-"

He interrupted her with a kiss. "Also, a day that merits your new gown."

"True," she said, and then let her mind drift a bit to thoughts of her gown, and the ribbons, and the veil... "I am so anxious to wear it!"

"You've worn it already haven't you? To get it fitted and all?"

"Yes," she allowed. "But that's _hardly_ the same."

"I suppose I'll take your word for it." He smiled, and then let his own mind drift.

"What are you thinking of?" she asked.

"That I am very eager for the fact that you are moving in." He lowered his voice. "Tonight is the last night I'll have to sleep without you."

She turned red and leaned in, lowering her voice even more than he did. "I know."

"Are you scared?" he asked again, but she knew he meant something different this time.

"No," she said honestly. "What would I be afraid of? You?"

He smiled, but was still curious. "Maybe afraid isn't the right word. Nervous is better. Are you?"

She blushed again. "I suppose. Yes."

"So am I," he said, hoping it would help. "Nervous. Not scared."

"Not scared," she agreed. "That implies that we aren't ready, or we don't want to. That's not it."

"No," he concurred. "No. We're not scared at all."

* * *

**Sorry for the temporary lack of inspiration! I have two more chapters already in the works!**

**Please give your thoughts on this one! Thanks!**


	43. A Celebration

**This is pure fluff, so enjoy.**

* * *

**Title: A Celebration****  
****Summary: Cosette's Birthday**

Cosette awoke to the familiar feeling of Marius' lips on her cheek, and his arm around her waist. She smiled, but did not open her eyes yet, and turned in his embrace to face him.

"Good morning," he whispered, stroking her hair from out of her face and kissing her neck, under her ear. "Happy Birthday."

She smiled and lazily opened her eyes. The room was flooded with light, and Marius was dressed in regular day clothes. She sat up, and looked at the clock across the room.

"Marius, it's after ten! Why didn't you wake me?"

"I just did," he said, kissing her again to remind her.

"I meant earlier."

"You can sleep in on your birthday," he reasoned. "And you looked too adorable for me to wake you up."

"How long have you been sitting here?" she asked.

"Not very long. Here," he said, and slid off the bed. He walked to the table between the two armchairs by the fireplace, and she saw a tray.

"You are sweet," she declared when he brought her breakfast.

"Now, you enjoy the day. I think Grandfather is going to torture you with attention today, so you should be quite occupied. I have to work, and then I have to take care of something." He smiled slyly at her, and she narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"What do you need to take care of?"

"No," he said putting one finger over her lips. "Not yet. But you be ready at eight. I have a surprise for you."

"No, no, tell me now!" she begged. "I hate surprises!"

"That is a lie," he said, smiling. "You _adore_ surprises, and you're just trying to ruin it for yourself. Have faith- wait until eight, and then we'll go. Don't bother asking anyone in the house, they won't tell you."

She pouted, and he kissed her one more time.

"See you tonight," he bid, and then left.

* * *

"Alright, I'm ready," Cosette said at eight o'clock that night, waiting by the front door. "Are you ready to tell me?"

"No," Marius said with a smile, pulling one of his cravats from his pocket. "Stay still," he bid, ignored her protests, and tied the cravat around her eyes. "Please don't cheat," he begged.

"I won't," she promised. "But I still don't know why you can't tell me."

"Yes you do," he said happily. "It would not be nearly as fun if I did, that's why. Come."

He led her by the hand out of their house, and she felt the mild June air around her and heard the bustle of traffic on the street.

"We're getting into a fiacre," he said. She reached her hand out and caught hold of the cab, stepping up as Marius half-hoisted half-guided her up, since she was blinded. "You know where to go," he told the driver.

"You are being ridiculous," she said. "The driver probably thinks you are kidnapping me!"

"No, I instructed him earlier on everything," Marius said. "Just relax."

The ride seemed to take hours, but Cosette knew that was because she could not see. Everything seemed to take longer when you did not know where you were going. Finally, after an endless wait puttering through the streets ofParis(she presumed they were still inParis) they stopped. Marius paid the man and got out, helping Cosette down.

"Wait here for one minute please," he said.

"I do hope we're someplace nice," she ordered. "What will you tell Grandfather otherwise? You left your blindfolded wife on the street, and she was accosted-"

"Oh, stop it," he said. "You are just fine. Please don't cheat," he begged.

"I won't," she promised, even though she wanted to.

He left her- she presumed- and then took her hand a minute later.

"Alright now," he said, and then lifted her into his arms.

"What are you doing?" she protested. "People could see-"

"Don't you worry! You can't walk through the place, it will ruin the surprise."

"Humph," she said, and crossed her arms indignantly over her chest, but let him do what he wanted. Finally, he set her down. The air on her face told her she was outside again.

"Can I look now?"

"No, not yet," he said, and she heard a door close behind her. Then he left again, and she heard his footsteps all around, as if he was walking in a wide circle in front of her. She heard the whispery sound of a match being lit several times.

Finally, when she was practically dancing from foot to foot in anticipation, he came back.

"Now," he said, "you can look."

The cravat dropped from her eyes, and she gasped.

They were in the garden of the rue plumet, only it looked nothing like it usually did. There must have been fifty candles all about- several on the steps, where they were standing, and on rocks all about the garden. A candelabra stood on top of a low table with champagne flutes and plates, with two chairs she recognized from inside the house.

"Marius," she whispered, breathless. "This is absolutely beautiful."

"I thought you might like it," he said, beaming with pride. "Here- sit, or walk around a bit."

He poured her some champagne, and then took a napkin off a bread basket.

"I'll be right back," he said, and left her to explore.

She walked about the garden for a few minutes, admiring the blooming flowers and trees, extra green and filled out due to the oncoming summer. She loved this place- always had, ever since she had moved there with her father when she was thirteen. It was like a sanctuary within the busy world ofParis.

Marius returned then, carrying a tray. Her eyes widened.

"You _cooked_ for me?" she asked, shocked.

"Sort of," he said. "I brought food over earlier. The cook was here until a few minutes ago."

"Thank you," she said, walking up to him and kissing him. "This is the most wonderful birthday I have ever had."

They sat down and ate, and fell under the spell of the garden. It had the same effect on them as ever. Cosette seemed to fall more in love, and started to feel more romantic and adventurous than usual, just as she had the past spring.

"This place has magic," she informed him, looking about at their beautiful surroundings. "I'm glad we don't come here very often, actually. It keeps it special."

"I don't know if it has magic," he said doubtfully.

"You are always so literal," she said, sipping some more champagne.

"No, it's not that," he said, shaking his head. "It's just that there's nothing special about this place other than that it's beautiful, and it's a place we feel we can be alone. It feels magical because it's where we fell in love."

"And that's not magic?" she wondered.

"In the sense that it was always meant to happen, yes it is," he said, smiling at her. "But at the same time, it's natural. Not magical."

"I suppose if you want to be cynical," she said, "that's the best way to do it. I will allow it."

"I would hate to be out of your good graces."

"You're very lucky then," she smiled.

They finished dinner- her favorite, which was sole with lemon, light whipped potatoes and asparagus- and Cosette sat back, looking at the stars, awed and happy.

"This is amazing," she said, her voice slow and filled with wonder.

He was looking at her intensely when she watched the stars.

"You are the most magnificent person I have ever met," he said softly. "Sometimes I wonder if I love you more now than I did yesterday, for I always feel deeply in love with an urgency that seems so new... but then I think of how I felt for you yesterday, and nothing's changed at all. I just know you that much more. I have twenty-four hours more of you to love."

"You're a poet," she said admiringly.

"Only with you," he said, blushing. "Don't urge me to show anyone else anything I've written."

"No- I'm selfish about your words. I feel they belong to me," she admitted.

"They do," he said, standing up. "I'll be right back." He took the dishes away, and covered the bread again. He would not let Cosette help, but then he had cleared the table completely and went into the house to clean the dishes.

Cosette looked about the garden, and her eyes landed on a pile of blankets on their bench- the one they used to use. She smirked; he had thought ahead, hadn't he?

She spread one on the dewy grass, and then lay down upon it, looking up at the stars. But then she sat up, and decided to try something new. She felt the champagne in her blood, and acted on the spell from the garden, the sense of adventure from being in the place of their love, and the protection of the trees, shielding them from the rest of the world.

Marius came out of the house a minute later, and found Cosette lying under the stars on one of the blanket's he'd set out, her dress and petticoats and stockings folded on the bench. She slowly turned her head and looked at him, her long hair loose around her shoulders and her face. The moonlight shown on her skin, silvery and yet warm in the summer night. Some of the candles had gone out, but there were enough to cast a flickering warm glow all around her.

He felt his breath leave him like he'd just fallen from a great height, and felt his heart thud. He felt his pulse all over his body, and he realized she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen- more than that. The most beautiful thing in the universe; he did not need to see everything to know it was true.

That night, under the stars in their garden, they did not think of dead fathers, or convicts, or prostitutes or friends who had died in vain. Instead, they thought of only each other, alone in a universe all their own.


	44. Hussy! and A Bit of Shelter

**Title: Hussy!****  
****Summary: Cosette and Marius have an argument at a party over a misunderstanding, and in turn Cosette learns something about Marius' morals**

Cosette was positively bouncing in her seat in the carriage. She and Marius were headed to a party for his new law firm- he had been signed on as of September, and there was a party being thrown for everyone working there. They had recently lost their baby to a miscarriage, and she was finally starting to feel better.

When they arrived, they were quickly swept up by the hostess, who was a bubbly and excitably woman, affectionately called Coco.

"You are very welcome, Monsieur Pontmercy, Madame," she said, greeting them.

"Thank you for inviting us, Madame Pontpierre," Cosette said. "You have a beautiful home."

"Please, call me Coco," she said.

"Well then, Coco, please call me Cosette," she said, just as Monsieur Pontpierre rushed into the room.

"Pontmercy!" he said, somewhat roughly addressing Marius. He was the youngest- and newest- to the firm, after all. "Will you come to my office for a minute? There's something you should see."

Marius glanced at Cosette.

"Oh, it will only take a minute," Monsieur Pontpierre said. "Come."

"Alright," Marius agreed.

"I'll take you in," Coco said to Cosette. "The party is in the parlor for now, but quickly migrating to the terrace. It's such a beautiful night."

"I'll wait for you there," Cosette said to Marius, and then went in with Coco.

She was quickly handed off and ignored when Coco was distracted by another new arrival, a woman she knew much better and obviously hadn't seen in a long time, judging by the kisses and the loud greetings. Cosette somewhat shyly stood by the window, looking out, unsure of what to do. She did not know anyone here, and almost everyone was in little groups of friends. She had no one to stand with, and was feeling uncomfortable. She hoped Marius would be back soon.

"Mademoiselle?" came a voice behind her.

She turned and saw a handsome young man, with tussled blonde hair and large, fair eyes. "May I get you a glass of champagne?" he asked.

"Why- yes," Cosette said, grateful someone was talking to her. "That would be lovely."

He vanished and returned a minute later.

"May I introduce myself? My name is Amadour Buckley."

"Pleased," Cosette said, curtseying politely. "My name is Pontmercy. Cosette Pontmercy."

"_Enchantee,_" he said, kissing her hand. She blushed. "Pardon me, but I just arrived from out of town. My brother-in-law is Monsieur Pontpierre, and I am staying here for a few weeks. I don't know anyone. I would love if you could... show me about."

"Oh, I would, but I find we are in much the same situation," Cosette admitted. "I don't know anyone in this room. I only met Coco and her husband a moment ago. I was feeling rather uncomfortable, to be honest. Though it is a lovely party," she added quickly.

"I am surprised at that," he said slickly. "If I had not come to talk to you, I am sure it would have only been a moment before some other man came by and snatched you up."

"Oh, no see, I-" Cosette began, when Coco returned.

"Cosette!" she declared, looking surprised and somewhat nervous as she passed by the two. "I see you have met my brother."

"Yes," Cosette said. "He was just telling me he is here on a visit." Coco nodded vacantly, as if she had not heard what Cosette said, and moved on. "Where is it you are from, Monsieur?"

"Lyon," he informed her. "I work as a restaurateur."

"_Do _you?" Cosette said, interested immediately.

"Yes," he said, shooting her a smile. "I must say I have a very fine knowledge of food and what makes French food great- though I must say my practical skills in the department are rather lax."

"Oh," Cosette said, laughing. "I am sure you are a perfectly fine cook."

"It is every man's greatest ambition to be perfectly fine at something, is it not?" he asked, winking at her.

She laughed. "I suppose not! But that was not what I meant. I'm sure you are wonderful," she said, ever a charmer, ever a people-pleaser.

"I will be here for another three weeks," he said. "If you would like sample my efforts yourself, you are surely welcome." He grinned at her widely. "Anytime you wish to come by would be _greatly_ appreciated. I've been told I can give a lovely dinner party, even if the food is not up the standards of the great French chefs. You see, Mademoiselle Cosette, it's all about the _ambiance._"

"I think you'll have to find someone else to share you_ ambiance_ with," Marius said, coming out of the crowd behind them and putting his arm around Cosette's waist. He looked stiff and angry, and was not looking at her. "_Madame _Pontmercy is unavailable."

"Marius," she asked, confused and slightly embarrassed by his harsh tone. "Have you met Monsieur Buckley? He is Madame Pontpierre's brother. He's a restaurateur from Lyon."

"Is he," Marius said disinterestedly, coldly. "How fascinating. I did not know restaurateurs conducted private dinner parties for married Parisian women."

"Oh, it wasn't a _private_ party," Cosette said, laughing as if this was obvious. But she looked over at Amadour, who had a very uncomfortable, awkward look on his face. He was ever-so-slowly inching his way back into the crowd, trying to get away from she and Marius. She instantly flushed. "Was it?"

Buckley did not answer. Instead he tipped his head toward her and Marius. "Good evening. I must go talk to- ah yes, them... I must go say hello to- those people over there..."

When he was gone, Cosette bit her lip. She turned to Marius.

"You did not have to be so rude," she said softly, so others would not hear.

He looked at her as if surprised she would even say that. "What was I _supposed _to act like, Cosette? How would you have suggested I react when I enter the room of my _very first_ event at my new workplace and find my wife flirting with some stupid dandy that I don't even know-"

"I was not flirting with him!" she said, affronted. "How dare you?"

"Well he was flirting with you," Marius said, as if this was an accusation. "And you did not seem to have much of a problem with it."

"I did not _know,_" she tried to impart on him. "I told you, I thought he was throwing a party like this one- do we have to discuss this now? You are being ridiculous."

"Fine," he said. "We'll talk about this when we get home." He did not look in the least appeased.

Cosette huffed a bit, holding her head high and avoiding eye contact with her husband. Honestly, he was impossible when he was jealous. She was just being polite to someone new to town; what was so wrong with that? So he had been flirting with her- he did not know she was married! It was not as if it was going to go anywhere. If he'd made any kind of _real_ advance, she would have politely told him she was married. There was no reason for Marius to be so upset. The party went on with Cosette and Marius ignoring each other, but standing next to each other and pretending to be having a grand time. She wanted to go somewhere private so they could finish and resolve their fight, but it was impossible.

On the way into the dining room an hour later, Cosette was squished into a knot of people. There was an abundance of voluminous silk skirts all about, and she tread carefully so as not to step on any of the other women's gowns. Some loud, boisterous and slightly (or not-so-slightly) drunk man was behind her, laughing and making an embarrassing ruckus.

_Honestly,_ she thought disapprovingly. _Dinner has not even started yet. It is so vulgar to be drunk already._

Then, the man behind her stumbled, knocking into her. Cosette tripped over her feet, and fell against the young, blonde woman in front of her.

The blonde gasped, and turned around. There was a dark, wet stain on the front of her dress from her champagne.

Cosette's eyes widened. "Oh my goodness, I am so sorry!" she exclaimed, reaching inside her clutch for her handkerchief to try and help the woman blot up the stain.

"Oh, _don't!"_ she said, pushing Cosette away. "Get your hands off me!"

"I am sorry," Cosette said, looking about in horror as people stared. "I will pay for the cleaning, just send the bill-"

"Oh, that's right, you'll pay for the cleaning," the woman said, making Cosette flush. "You hussy!"

"Excuse me!" Cosette said, gasping.

"I saw you, all over my husband!" she spat.

"Who?" Cosette asked, genuinely confused. "_All over..._?" She did not understand.

"Flirting with my husband! Him!" she pointed to Buckley, who was standing across the room, looking shamefaced. Cosette gasped. "Isn't one man enough for you?"

"Him? No, he's from out of town-"

"You idiot! He's from Paris! Don't make things up, I saw you with him-"

"You couldn't have seen anything," Cosette said icily. "I was only talking-"

"_Hussy,_" the woman hissed.

"I'm sorry," Marius said, coming up behind Cosette. "But if you speak to my wife that way again I will have to speak to the host and ask for you to leave. It's highly unbecoming, especially from someone attached to a dishonest, cowardly scoundrel such as your husband."

Marius spoke all this in a hushed voice, so only the blonde woman and Cosette could hear.

"Now, we both know you understand exactly what happened between your husband and my wife, and I would suggest having a long talk with him before you next attend a party together. But I trust you know all this; why else would you grow so angry? I'm sure you know that for every conversation such as the one he had with my wife, there is at least one encounter you are even more ashamed of."

"How dare-" she began, but Marius cut her off again.

"Do not insult my wife," Marius said quickly. "Now, she apologized. We will be happy to pay for the cleaning of your gown. The host will give you our address; send the bill on when it's ready. Come, Cosette." He led her into the dining room, where he proceeded to ignore her for the rest of the party.

Later that evening when they had returned home, Cosette sat down with him.

"I told you already," she began, "I did not know he was flirting with me. I would appreciate for you to acknowledge that. I have not done anything that I need to apologize for. I feel bad if you were embarrassed, but we both know I would not have willingly done anything to make you feel that way. That's all I want to say on the subject."

"I understand," he admitted. "I was upset. I'm sorry I grew angry with you; I'm not sorry I was so harsh with him, though."

She nodded. Knowing that Buckley was a lying, unfaithful man made her feelings of embarrassment over Marius' harsh reaction disappear. "But you were angry with me all night."

"Yes," Marius admitted. "I'm sorry."

"And you still defended me to his wife."

Marius furrowed his brow, confused. "Of course I did. You are my family. I will not see you dishonored."

"Oh," Cosette said. "Well, thank you for that."

She flushed as she took off her pearls and her gloves, hanging up her wrap, thinking of what had happened. "This is one of the most ridiculous situations I have ever encountered. She was so _angry._ I was only talking. Why was she so upset?"

"She was embarrassed about how it made her look to the other guests at the party," he said pointedly. "When they all saw her husband talking alone to another attractive, young woman instead of her."

Cosette flushed, and then actually felt ashamed. "I understand. I'm sorry I embarrassed you."

"All's forgiven," he dismissed, and smiled, showing it was over. "Besides, it was she who was the most embarrassed. Her husband has probably had more mistresses- or at least unfaithful encounters- than you can count on your fingers and toes, and they can't have been married more than five years. It's obviously a very sensitive subject to her."

Cosette flushed, shamed at the subject. It was so sordid.

Marius raised his eyebrows at her expression. "It happens," he said.

"I just wish it didn't," she said, looking at the floor. She would hate to be that woman at the party, hateful and self-conscious. She knew that if Marius wanted to take a mistress, it would be socially unacceptable for her to reproach him. No matter the fact that the mere thought of him with another woman was enough to make her stomach churn and her skin crawl. She clenched her fists and shook her head, hating the bothered, nagging feeling that ghosted over the back of neck when the hated image came into her mind.

She wanted to brush the feeling away, but she was too agitated. Men strayed, she knew. Would it make it easier if she asked Marius? She could not bear to find out he had a mistress by smelling another woman's perfume on him, or finding gifts wrapped, addressed to Amalie or Maxine or Jeannette. Her skin crawled again.

No, she would have to ask. She took a deep breath and rounded on him, gathering her courage.

"What do you think of infidelity?" she said quickly, getting the idea out in the open before she could doubt herself. "Would you ever take a mistress?"

He looked at her for a long time with wide eyes, caught completely off guard by what she'd asked- it was clearly not something he ever expected to hear from her.

"What's got you thinking of _this_?" he asked.

"Would you... ever?" Cosette asked, dodging his question.

"Cosette," he said, and took her hands. "No. I'm married to you."

"That does not mean anything-"

"It does to me," he said with finality. "Some men think that the marriage vows don't apply to them, but when I swear something, I mean it. You know that about me."

"I do," she said, and then laughed at her choice of words. "I know that. But still..."

He kissed her deeply then, surprising her. "We have something so few other people have," he said, pulling back ever-so-slightly before kissing her again. "I would be a selfish fool to give that up, looking for more. I wouldn't find it. Now why are you asking me this?"

"I'm just thinking," she said, "Of Buckley and his wife and how awful that might be."

"Let me tell you a story," Marius said, "about growing up with Luc Gillenormond. From as far back as I remember, there were _always_ women around. Mistresses, dates, less honest things... He was always attached to someone. When I turned fifteen, he started throwing parties for me, inviting the sons and daughters of any couple he knew whose children were my age. He urged me to be like him, and I never wanted to- I did not respect anything about him, so why would I want to go down his path? It was not long before he started flirting with the girls invited to my parties- yes," Marius said, nodding at Cosette's surprised face. "Girls my age. You will recall it was not five minutes after we were betrothed that he started in on you. Remember?"

"That was innocent," she said, blushing, but remembering his grandfather's over-complementary words.

"Yes," Marius said. "It was all silly and had nothing behind it. But if your father had not been there..."

"Marius!" Cosette scolded, scandalized.

"It's true," Marius said. "Now, my point. It was horrible growing up that way. I had no morality around me-"

"Except your aunt," Cosette said, giggling.

"Yes, except her. Cosette, sooner or later we're going to find out you're pregnant again, and then we'll be starting our own family. I do not want our children growing up around that. They are going to have clearly defined visions of what a family should be: a father and a mother, children, love and protection. They won't be confused by anyone extra who does not belong here. I believe infidelity poisons a family, causes rifts and anger and misunderstandings and jealousy. You are my wife, my one and only love and the person I promised my loyalty to. I won't stray from that, and I expect the same from you."

"Of course," she said, breathing more easily and relaxing into his embrace. "I'm glad we had that fight," she realized. "Because I am glad to know this about you."

"I'm sure you could have guessed it," he said. "You know I am a man of my word."

"It's nice to hear, all the same," she said, relief in her every breath. "I don't ever want to be like Madame Buckley."

"You won't," Marius said. "I don't think you would ever call someone a hussy," he said, laughing.

He kissed her again, their relaxation and relief imminent in the atmosphere of their bedroom.

"Cosette," Marius said, while he kissed her. "We have not made up yet..."

"I thought we just did," she said, distracted while she kissed him.

"You know..."

"Oh..." she said, smiling. "Yes, I know."

* * *

**Title: Shelter in the Rain****  
****Summary: A moment from the garden**

The rain poured down as Cosette left the house on the rue plumet. She covered her head with her arms, but it did little to shield her from the water. Soon she was soaking wet. Her hair came out of its bun, and wet strands hung about her face. She shivered, her wet dress against her skin, chilling her.

Just then Marius moved aside the bar of the gate and walked into the garden. He had his jacket up over his head, and quickly walked up to her, and extended the rain protection.

"Hello," she said, laughter on her face as she looked about. Lightening flashed all around them, temporarily illuminating their faces. Thunder was continuously rumbling in the distance.

"Good evening?" he said, doubt in his voice. "It really is terrible out here, isn't it?"

"Do you want to leave?" she asked regretfully. The last thing she wanted was for him to leave.

"No," he said. "Do you want me to? So you can go inside?"

"No," she said hurriedly. "Not at all."

He smiled. "Good."

She smiled back just when a huge crash of thunder cut through their conversation. They both jumped violently, and Cosette took advantage of this to jump closer to him. He put his arms around her, which was exactly what she hoped he'd do. She sighed and stayed there for a minute, before blushing and stepping back.

"I know," she said, and took his hand, leading him towards the house. At one point, the roof had a small overhang over the stoop, providing a small shelter from the rain. "Perfect," she declared, and turned to look at Marius.

He was looking at her with an intense, burning stare. She felt something in the pit of her stomach flutter, and did not know what to do. He continued to stare; she looked so warm, so beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed and red, her usually brown hair looking black due to the water and the darkness of the night. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyebrow was raised just a little bit, looking inquisitive.

Impulsively, Marius put his hands on her waist and began walking her backwards. Through the cold, wet fabric, he could feel the warmth of her body as he pressed her against the wall. He leaned down and rested his forehead on hers, closing his eyes. She leaned back, resting against the wall behind her, Marius' chest against her own, and hooked her arms around his neck.

"I want to kiss you so badly," he said as he was pressed against her, his voice hoarse and strained.

She lifted her head slowly, and looked him deeply in the eyes. He looked so vulnerable in that moment, almost frightened. She realized he did not know if he'd said too much, if she was going to run away or be upset that he wanted her.

"You can, you know," she told him solidly. "You can kiss me."

He smiled slowly, his red lips over his white teeth, his eyes growing very warm and her heart jumping. But instead of kissing her, he shook his head and took a step away from her. He did not need to explain; she understood. They'd kissed once, but it had been so ethereal, so angelic and almost holy. To kiss now would mean something different entirely.

He reached for her hand, chilled from the rain, and pressed his lips to her fingers.

"There," he said.

"There," she said, trying to hide her disappointment.

* * *

**I used to get reviews.**

**They were nice.**

**Too bad they stopped almost entirely, eh?**

**Sadface.**

**Please?**

**Thanks.**


	45. The Courtship

**Title: A Quiet Comfort****  
****Summary: Cosette's presence soothes Marius' memories**

Marius sat on his chaise lounge staring blankly out he window, his thoughts far away, dwelling on the faces of his friends. Yesterday, he'd bee reunites with Cosette and they had been granted permission to marry. However happy he was though, Marius could not escape his empty feelings. He could not make the least bit of sense of his memories: they had no chronological order. Flashes bombarded his mind, and he only saw snippets. Courfeyrac's death, his own rescue of the barricade, the mysterious fifth uniform, Gavroche, Eponine, all the young men whose youth and ideas were now dust.

"What is the matter?" Cosette's voice broke through his sickened state. "You look so sad."

Marius did not know Cosette had arrived yet; she had entered his room very quietly. He heard the voices of her father and his grandfather in the hallway outside his room now. Cosette's presence soothed him.

"Come here please," Marius requested, and Cosette sat beside him. He took her hand and rested his head atop hers, feeling her soft hair against his cheek. "I was thinking about the fighting. I don't know how to process what happened. One day, I woke up in my grandfather's house and they tell me I've been sick for weeks. Then I remember my friends are dead, and I think you are gone forever... Cosette, I am so unbelievably glad you are here."

"As am I, dear, as am I," said Cosette, knowing it was likely she would never understand what Marius had gone through.

After a moment of her sitting beside him, the pain began to dull, and different pictures clouded his mind. In a few short months, he and Cosette would be married, and he had until then to build an entirely new life. He had a family now, people to fill the vacancies of his dead friends.

* * *

**Title: Remedies****  
****Summary: Cosette takes over the process of Marius' care**

Cosette did not know Marius' family very well, during October and November of their courtship. Though Grandfather was warm and easy to like, Marius' aunt was perplexing and cold, but not unkind. Cosette grew rather uncomfortable in her presence, which she usually found somewhat judgmental.

Instead of busying herself with the Gillenormonds, Cosette took to Marius' care (which she preferred anyway, seeing as it allowed her to spend some uninterrupted time with him). While other members of the house were talking and socializing, she sat with Marius, usually snipping at him because he was insistent in elongating his convalescence.

"How many times have I told you," Cosette chirped, "Don't sit that way and lean on your arm? Do you _want_ to hurt yourself?"

"I'm perfectly fine," he'd declare. "Did you know my grandfather only let you come because I was nearly better? Meaning I can certainly get out of this ridiculous lounge and walk around the room."

"Oh, no you don't," Cosette warned, glaring at him. "And remember, you heard grandfather. You should be eating more meat-"

"I don't like eating meat," Marius argued. "I like fish. Especially when I can't even stand up and walk around the room; eating meat just makes me feel too full and tired when all I can do is sit here-"

"Well, you'll never be able to walk if you keep sitting like that and arguing with the doctor's orders!"

"He's just being careful, I'm really fine!"

"Marius!"

"Cosette!"

But she found that she had the upper hand in one way. A simple report to grandfather had the cook refusing to buy fish for several weeks, except on Fridays because of the Church. Marius was ordered, sternly, to keep still, and Cosette was made happy.

"I haven't answered to anyone in years," Marius would grumble to Cosette. "And now you are here, acting like a second grandfather and turning the house against me..."

"Well, you answer to me now," she would say coyly. "When you go off and do something as horrid as get yourself hurt in a street fight, well, you have some ground to earn back, Monsieur."

Marius grumbled but, as usual, relented.

* * *

**Title: A Tour of the House****  
****Summary: Marius can walk again**

For the majority of Marius' recovery, the tête-à-têtes were held in the parlor, where Marius could rest on the chaise lounge and the rest could have comfortable seating. For this reason, Cosette and her father had never actually seen the whole house. One afternoon, Monsieur Gillenormond insisted in giving them a tour.

Her father, always a sporting man, followed Gillenormond while Marius and Cosette lagged behind.

"Look over here," Marius said, pulling her by the hand to look at a painting in the room the party was just leaving. As luck would have it, Gillenormond remained unaware of his surroundings and continued blathering on about the architecture, and did not notice the lovers missing.

"How interesting," Cosette said, playing along until the old men were out of ear shot.

"I dreamed of you last night," Marius informed her. "You were kidnapped by a bandit and I had to rescue you."

"How awful!" she exclaimed. "But did you?"

"Of course," he said, laughing. He quieted, gazing at her. "I wonder what your hair looks like let down... you always keep it up."

"I have to," she said. "It's proper. But it hangs to the middle of my back."

"Can I see?"

"Now? It's all pinned up."

"We're alone, you'll have plenty of time to put it up later. I'll help you take it down."

"Alright," she relented, turning around. "You'll need to take out the combs fir-"

She jumped, feeling his lips on the back of her neck, under her ear. Shivering, she leaned back into him and felt his arms encircle her waist.

"Trapped," he declared, forgetting about her hair since she was so close to him.

Cosette smiled, and turned in his embrace so she was facing him.

"I don't mind," she said provocatively, one eyebrow raised in something of a challenge, until he kissed her sweetly.

Leaning into him, Cosette pushed past their usual boundaries and deepened their kiss, feeling a fire in her chest and an excited thumping of her heart. She smiled against his mouth as he put his hands on her back, pulling her in close.

A thud sounded in the hallway, and they leapt apart.

"Ooh, look there," Cosette said, dragging him over to the China cabinet just in time for Aunt Gillenormond to enter, clutching a prayer book she had evidently just dropped. "Are these antiques?"

* * *

**Sorry for such a long time without an update! Life got crazy...**

**But please write a review! Any ideas would be nice too. I sometimes like to write about the children, but I prefer writing about Marius and Cosette's young relationship. If you have any ideas about that, feel free!**

**Xoxoxo**


	46. The Twins

Marius and Cosette had just had the surprise of their life. She had gone into labor with their third child... and a fourth had come, too.

"But can't you usually tell when a woman's pregnant with twins?" Marius asked the doctor, dumbstruck, when Cosette had gone back into labor not five minutes after their daughter, Isabel, had been born.

"Sometimes. Sometimes not. If the babies are small sometimes it's very hard to tell."

Marius, blinking and shocked and rather unable to be of any use at all, stood stock still. Cosette was angry; she'd thought she was done with the pain! But no; she had to give birth to _another _baby. For goodness' sakes, when would she be done with this?

But when the baby was born, a son they named Georges after Marius' father, all her feelings of annoyance dissipated.

"We'd always said we were going to let God decide how big our family was going to be," Marius reasoned a few minutes later, when it really was all over and both babies were wrapped in soft blankets. He sighed, marveling. "Cosette, I guess we have twins now."

Cosette smiled. They were both very small, but the doctor said they were healthy. More scrunched than normal babies, but perfectly fine.

"He looks like my friend Courfeyrac," Marius said.

Cosette looked up at him, disbelieving. "He was born less than an _hour _ago. He looks like a _baby._"

"No, no, he does," Marius said with a wide grin, looking at the boy. There was something about his expression. He was smiling in his sleep, as if satisfied that he'd entered the world with a _bang._ "Always one for attention, he was."

In a few weeks, the family found that the name stuck. Or nickname, anyway. It turned out the boy had a very strong set of lungs and, as the years would tell, a mischievous sense of humor. He lived up to his nickname very aptly, whatever his birth certificate might say.

A few hours later, Marius brought the other children up to his and Cosette's room, where she was sitting on the window seat with the two babies.

"Now, be very careful," he told Jean and Marie, keeping both their hands in his own. "You must be very gentle. They're very small, and they can get sick very easily."

"Have they washed their hands?" Cosette asked.

"Yes, I just had them do that. Now," he said walking them over to the babies. "Meet your sister and brother."

Marie gasped, delighted, while Jean grimaced.

"Strange," the little boy said.

"You looked just like this once," Cosette said, and then patted the seat next to her. Jean tentatively sat, looking frightened of the odd, alien-like beings in his mother's arms.

"May I hold one of them?" Marie asked.

Marius looked to Cosette, unsure. Marie was five years old, and much too young to handle the babies herself. But she looked so hopeful, and he would hate to tell her no. It would only open up a kind of insecurity for her, and would say that she mattered less now that there were two new babies in the house. Cosette had a look on her face that suggested the same thought, but Marius had an idea.

"Here," he said, and sat in the armchair next to the window. He pulled Marie onto his lap. "There. You're not going to fall, are you?"

"No, I'm quite sturdy!" she said proudly, expectantly looking at the babies.

Marius reached his hands out around Marie, and Cosette carefully handed over Isabel to him.

"You see how I have my arms?" Cosette said to Marie. "Hold her like that."

Marie made a cradle with her arms, and Marius passed Isabel to her. He kept his hands under Isabel's head and her tiny body to be careful, but Marie was very good.

"She's heavy, for someone so small."

"There's a whole person in there," Marius reasoned. "Her little body has to hold her heart, her soul, and her mind, in addition to everything else. That's why humans are so heavy."

Marie smiled, and looked down at her sister.

Then, Georges-Courfeyrac woke, and started to cry. Jean started and got up off the window seat, putting some distance between him and the baby.

"Don't be frightened," Cosette said. "He's just scared, too. He met the whole world today. Here, Jean, look." She took one of the tiny knitted socks off the baby's foot and showed it to him.

"Small," he said, smiling. Ever so slowly, and consistently jerking his hand back as if afraid the baby's foot would bite him, Jean reached out. Finally, he touched. His face broke out into a brilliant grin.


	47. Permanance

**Title: Permanance**

**Summary: Marius and Cosette's relationship is both ethereal and substantial**

Marius pushed aside the wrought iron broken bar, his heart thudding. His heart had not felt normal for the past five days, ever since he had met Cosette. Since that first night, he had not been himself. A smile hadn't left his face, and sleep had been beyond him. The words she said stayed in his head for hours after he'd seen her and her face never left his mind.

However, his mind sometimes left him.

"Hello there," he said, beaming at her once he was in the garden and she was standing under the trees in front of him. The sky still had a hint of light in it, and he could just make out her eyes.

"Marius," she said, sounding just as shy as she had the previous day. They had spoken for hours in the past few evenings, but she seemed to be bashful at the beginning of every evening. It seemed they had to warm to each other still, and recover from their time apart.

She led him to their bench, and sat beside him. Before he could say anything, however, she produced his jacket. Marius balked; he didn't even realize he was missing it.

"I..." he began.

"You left this here last night," Cosette said, biting her lip.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Thank you for keeping it for me."

"I found it when I went walking this morning," Cosette said. "My father wasn't awake yet, thank goodness."

Marius nodded.

"But..." Cosette began, sounding nervous. "Could you be sure to..."

"I'll bring it with me tonight," Marius promised, feeling solemn. Their relationship was brand new, so he had no desire for more. He had so much left to learn that he was perfectly content with how things were. But he could not deny that it was disconcerting to know that leaving a piece of him with her was hazardous.

"Thank you," she said.

"What is your father like?" Marius asked after a time. "Will he like me?"

"Oh, he will adore you!" Cosette exclaimed, but Marius already knew enough about her to sense her playful tone of voice. "I'm sure you two will get along famously. He enjoys reading, and so do you. You'll talk about books while I'll sit with you and do my sewing, listening. We can sit in this garden, perhaps-"

"No, no," Marius said, playing along. "We'll return to the Luxembourg and you'll take my arm while he tells us stories of France from before we were born..."

They talked on and on, and Marius tried to ignore that Cosette resorted to fantasy the moment he introduced the thought of he and her father meeting.

Still, he could not erase the thought and he decided to press things. Feeling skittish, he boldly said: "When we get married, I want to travel with you. We'll go somewhere in the world where we'll be the only two people for ages, and we can stay out just like this under the stars. Only we won't be enclosed by a fence, hiding from anyone."

She smiled, and laid her head on his shoulder, which made his stomach flip. When she touched him that way, he felt strong and protective. She looked at him as though he was knowledgeable, a genius, mature and infallible. All he'd known was being a young inexperienced man struggling to know what he believed in. But Cosette saw him differently and made him want to be who she thought he was.

"I've scarcely been outside this garden," she said wistfully. "Anything would be wonderful."

Marius extracted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, knowing that if he had her, he would never have to travel again. As long as she was by his side, he would stay anywhere. He would go anywhere, or stay there forever.

The next night, he brought her a letter. It was simple and not his best writing, but that was hardly the point. But he wanted to know that, when he left, he would leave something behind with her. It made it more permanent somehow.


	48. Inhibitions

"Dinner time!" Cosette announced to grandfather and Aunt Gillenormond and their guests for the evening, a former admiral in the army and his wife. They were having drinks in the parlor. "Oh, goodness, where is my husband? Honestly, he's so difficult to find sometimes, buried in books the way he is… I do apologize for his not being here. Marius!"

She trekked up the stairs in their large house in the Marais, locating he husband in his study, indeed buried in a book.

"It's time for supper, dear," she said, beckoning him out. "You've been neglecting our guests."

"I'm sorry, darling, I was just wrapped up in my reading, I didn't notice the time-"

"Of course not," Cosette dismissed, shaking her head amusedly. "But go on, no excuses now-"

"You are very pretty when you are annoyed with me," Marius said, attempting to pull Cosette into an embrace as they passed the couch in his study.

"Oh, no no no," Cosette said, slipping out of his grasp. "You will not distract me tonight, Monsieur, we have entertaining to do. Now, let us go downstairs, please." With that, she fluttered out of the study and Marius was forced to follow.

* * *

Dinner went well, boring chatter mixed with some witty moments. After the guests left, Cosette escorted grandfather to his bedroom, chirping away to him.

"My dear girl, you are such a wonderful addition to this home," he exclaimed, kissing her hand with relish. "You add such beauty and light and humor here—it's been missing for far too long, ever since Marius' mother left all those years ago!"

"I am glad to be here, by darling grandfather," Cosette said, smiling.

Marius came up the stairs then, greeting them.

"I was just telling Cosette how happy I am she is here," he told his grandson.

"A daily conversation you have, I see," Marius said, smiling at the both. "Though one true for all of us." He took her hand reflexively.

"I am so glad you didn't make her your mistress like I originally suggested! You young people do know better, marrying for love really is the right way about it—"

It was apparent to Cosette, even while grandfather blathered on, that her husband was very upset.

"Please excuse us, Cosette dear," Marius said sternly, his eyes on grandfather still.

"Are you alright?"

"I need to speak to grandfather, love, I'll be back downstairs shortly."

Cosette nodded, and went downstairs, curious. She heard Marius' voice, stern and low, from the stairs behind her.

* * *

"Marius darling?" Cosette called from her boudoir where she sat brushing her hair in front of the vanity.

"Yes, Cosette?" her husband said back, entering from their bedroom and tying his robe around his waist.

Cosette put her brush down and turned in her seat to look at him. "What's a mistress?"

Instantly Marius' face darkened. "I can't believe he mentioned that—the nerve of that man! The _first_ time was bold enough, and now that we're married…!"

"Marius, I'm sorry if I've upset you," Cosette said, taken aback by how harsh his tone became.

"Darling," he said, his demeanor softening. "You didn't upset me at all."

He perched on the side of her vanity and put a hand on her head, stroking her hair. "Grandfather did, earlier. Remembering what he said made me upset again, not you. I'm sorry if I snapped at you."

"You are quite forgiven," she said. "But, Marius, why did that make you so angry? I still don't understand."

She turned her blue eyes up towards him questioningly and watched him take a deep breath, his thinking evident on his face.

"It's not an honorable position," Marius said to her finally. "There are worse ones for women, certainly, but for someone as virtuous as you, it is unthinkable."

Cosette furrowed her brow. Her husband, bless him, had the habit of shielding her from anything he thought would upset her, and usually his filter was too thorough. "I don't understand what that means, Marius. What position? Please, just tell me what it is and I am sure you are right about it not being honorable."

"A mistress is a woman who acts as if she is a married to a man when she is not. So they go out together, he buys her things, they go to bed together, but they are unmarried."

"Oh," Cosette said. "I see." She was quiet. "Do they love each other?"

Marius stared at her a moment as if he had never considered this before. Finally, he spoke. "I suppose some do. There's no reason they wouldn't. Many probably do, in fact. But most of the time it's just a short relationship they keep either outside of a marriage or before they are married at all…. It's more the result of a man's unfaithfulness to his wife—current or future—and frivolity. That's how I see it anyway. Regardless, that would have never happened between us, I would never have dishonored you that way."

Cosette nodded, and then resumed readying her hair for bed, plaiting it loosely and tying it with a ribbon. Meanwhile Marius went back into their bedroom and finished polishing his boots, which he still insisted on doing himself even though he was rich now. Something about the honor of caring for your own possessions. Cosette did not quite understand everything Marius did, but she loved him and loved his oddities. He was such a stern and decisive young man, which made her feel safe as his wife; she knew exactly where she stood with him, and his values were very clear. Marius would not lie to her, because he believed dishonesty was the root of immorality. She could trust him immensely because of the nature of his personality, but sometimes he took the romance out of their love, as impossible as that could be.

A few minutes later Cosette crawled onto their big bed, tossing some of the overstuffed pillows aside. She let out a little grunt as she attempted to pull back the thick comforter while sitting on it. Marius, already in bed and reading a thick book that looked uninteresting to Cosette, chuckled and helped with the blankets so she could get in more easily. Satisfied, Cosette lay down close to Marius. She wanted to lay in his arms, but he was reading and propped against the headboard, so she couldn't get too near to him.

After a minute or two of this, Cosette grew restless. Her thoughts were running rampant in her head, imagining people laying together like this who weren't husband and wife. She had honestly never thought that was a possibility! Before she and Marius were betrothed, the thought of sharing such an intimate place as a bed never even occurred to her, let alone everything else that happened _in _the bed. Her desire for Marius to hold her grew stronger.

Usually when they made love Marius was incredibly gentle and loving, and would speak soft words of affection to her throughout. He would kiss her tenderly, touch her body as if she was sacred, and enter her slowly and gently as if it were the first time. Usually that was perfect; he was always conscious of making her feel loved and always spent time on her so she felt pleasure. But once, about ten days after her father died, it was different. They had not made love since Jean Valjean had passed, and Cosette was having a difficult time to say the least. She felt a little betrayed that he left her so suddenly, as if he could plan his death and chose to hurt her with it. Ridiculous, but she couldn't control her feelings. Anyway, that night she was angry, and crying. Marius was comforting her, but she couldn't make use of his soft speech and gentle touches that night. Her father had been so loving and present in her life one day, and it seemed like a blink of an eye before he was gone. How short life was! Without thinking, Cosette threw her arms around her husband and kissed him with more passion than ever before. Fueled by the emotion of the past week and half, she and Marius furiously undressed each other and experienced each other intensely, with lust and no regard for anything but that one moment they had together. She had never felt more fulfilled by her husband, and the intimacy resulting from their total lack of inhibitions that night had helped her move into the next stage of her mourning, and begin to heal. But after that night, Marius had only ever been gentle and slow, like usual, endlessly sweet and careful.

The thought that people were together _just _to go to bed together opened her eyes. There must be pleasure in that act alone, and they were silly not to enjoy it more! The thought of being so vulnerable for anyone but Marius was unthinkable—he was her husband and she would never break her vows to him, but it was more than that. She loved him and trusted him and could not imagine deriving pleasure from anyone she did not love as completely as she loved Marius. But if people who did not share what she and her husband did were able to enjoy themselves, than the two of them should be able to enjoy themselves that much more!

She sat up and kissed Marius on the cheek. He smiled and gave her a light peck back, putting an arm around her and going back to his book.

"Marius," she said.

"Yes?"

"What if we weren't able to marry?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if… say my father never wanted to go to England, and we continued meeting in the rue Plumet, but we were not able to marry. We wouldn't be separated, but we wouldn't be married."

"Yes," he said, confused. "What are you asking me?"

"Well, nothing really," Cosette said, growing shy for some reason.

"Come now," Marius said, squeezing her to him briefly. "What are you thinking?"

"Well, we adore each other. I'm not really asking a question, I'm just telling you… I think I would have gone to bed with you eventually, even if we couldn't marry."

Marius widened his eyes. "Cosette!"

"I'm not saying this to upset you, I'm saying it because I love you so much," she said, blushing.

"I love you too, but Cosette! Really!"

"I'm sorry I said anything," she said, turning away and feeling ashamed.

"No, no, no," Marius said, reaching for her and looking guilty. "I don't mean to embarrass you, please. I'm just… shocked, I suppose."

"Well, it doesn't matter because we _are_ married, and I really couldn't have gone to bed with you anyway because I had no idea what that even meant until six months ago, and you never would have. I just mean that… well… There are so many married couples who do not love each other, and we are meant to be together. God loves his children so, and I don't understand why He would believe that two people who love each other truly and completely should not be together, while two people who do not love each other should. If we couldn't be together because of worldly things, surely our souls were connected enough to defy that, and it wouldn't be a sin? Because I have never felt as close to God as I have, loving you."

Marius had plenty to say bubbling to the surface, but upon her last sentence, had to kiss his wife before anything else.

"I have also never felt as close to God until you. You've taught me everything I know about honoring Him through loving others. Well, you and your father, my love. But Cosette, our souls _are_ meant to be together, and nothing could have stopped that. It is surely not a sin to be together emotionally. But if we were not blessed by the Church, our bodies could not be."

"I understand," Cosette said. "In practice this never would have happened. I am only telling you what I'm thinking."

"I want you to, always," he said. They fell silent. Marius had a lot to think about, mulling over her words. He put his book down and lay back, Cosette laying against him.

She was an extraordinary person, his wife. He always assumed she was so pure and white, but she was so much more… She was free and loving and brave, and he was so stuck in his ways. Cosette challenged him to be adventurous and trusting and to expect happiness from life, to make your own happiness. Saying things like this, with her optimism about love and the boundless freedom it offered, it daunted him. Life had rules, and Cosette just undercut them all with her simple, clear, feminine reasoning: love matters most, not mankind's rules. Why were women so good at discovering things like that?

Marius' rulebook was multilayered, but as his wife lay against him, the shapes of her beautiful warm body against his own, he could not deny that her devotion and passion aroused him. This gorgeous, virtuous woman just declared that she loved and wanted him enough to break the most ironclad of restrictions placed on young women; how could he ignore that?

He couldn't, of course.

It didn't take much; obviously Cosette was ready for him to kiss her and was expecting his touches. With his mouth against hers, he eagerly unbuttoned her nightgown and drew it off of her until his wife was naked before him, her beautiful, soft body one of his greatest joys now that they were married.

Cosette was not inactive; she undressed Marius and touched him greedily, unafraid, the two of them doing all the things they'd discovered in the past few months that they both liked best, but this time reveling in the blessing it was that they desired each other so. Marius had always been so worried about wanting Cosette; he loved her, was it wrong to want her too? Would she be afraid if he was too passionate? Those fears gone, the two came together in an incredible way.

Once they finished, Cosette lay breathless in the bed, warm and a little sweaty, dazed and overwhelmed. That felt too good to not be a sin, and yet she knew it wasn't. Smiling to herself, Cosette knew that if this was the beginning of their marriage, she couldn't wait for the rest of it.


	49. Slipping Through His Fingers

Valjean turned the key in the lock of the apartment, glad as usual to be back at home. Despite the fact that Javert had been dead for three months, the lingering feeling of being watched still nagged every time he was in the public eye.

"Hello Father!" Cosette called from the kitchen, where she was helping Toussaint spread jam on cookies.

"Hello my dear," Valjean responded, a reflexive smile lighting up his face when he saw his daughter. In her face, he could see every age: the shivering child in the woods, the carefree twelve-year-old making chains of flowers in the garden and searching for critters in the grass, the beautiful young woman she had become. "How was your afternoon?"

"Lovely," she said. "Toussaint is teaching me some recipes so that I can learn to better cook. She and I went to the markets to pick up some groceries. How are you?"

"Very well," he said, dreading her next question.

"And how is Marius?" she asked, her eyes growing a bit pained and eager for his response.

Valjean sighed a little, trying to conceal his disappointment. It was unfair of him to wish for Cosette to forget her love for this young man, after all what she felt was only natural. But each time she asked about Marius, Valjean felt a stab of resentment as he mourned the loss of their old, simple life together.

He led Cosette over to the couch, where they sat down to talk.

"His grandfather said he is doing quite well; he is able to pace around the house. Apparently he is doing that quite a lot, and is growing annoyed that no one will let him go out for walks."

Cosette smiled. "That does sound like him. Oh! How I wish I could see him… why, if he's doing so well, am I not allowed?"

"The doctor says you aren't to visit. Besides, my dear, it wouldn't be quite proper. His grandfather has not invited you either."

"Oh, pooh!" Cosette scoffed. "I know for a fact that all those people fussing over him are causing him far more anxiety than I would! I should think he would like to see me," she said. "I should hope."

"Oh, Cosette, I'm sure that's not the problem," Valjean said.

"Do you know if he's asked after me?" she said, her eyes growing huge. She asked this each day, her youth and inexperience causing her to doubt Marius' love for her in their time apart.

"His grandfather says that Monsieur Pontmercy is missing you greatly. The time willcome soon when you will see him again, I am confident."

"Not soon enough," Cosette sighed. "It's been ages."

"I'm sorry, dearest," Valjean said, unsure of what to say. As a young man he'd had some flirtations with young women in the village, but nothing that moved him remotely close to what he saw in his daughter now. Besides, that was so long ago that any memory had grown faded and inaccessible.

"I'd been meaning to ask you," Valjean said, growing uncomfortable. This was a discussion that needed to be had, but he was reluctant to bring it up.

"Yes?" Cosette asked, curious.

"There will come a time soon when Monsieur Gillenormond will ask me to bring you to see Mosnieur Pontmercy."

"Yes?" Cosette asked, now smiling.

_And then he will ask for your hand,_ Valjean thought, but could not say it out loud. He convinced himself it was to protect Cosette from rising hopes, but really it was because the idea of watching her marry was too painful as of yet.

"Well, my dear, I know I've been to visit the Gillenormond house many times in the last few months, and I know their situation and Monsieur Pontmercy's upbringing, but you are well aware that I care far more about your happiness than anything else."

"I am aware, Father, you have always tried to make me happy," Cosette said, confused. "And I am so grateful to you for that."

"But before I could… trust you with this young man, I would have to know that he treats you well."

"Papa!" Cosette scolded. "I would not love him if he did not treat me well."

"Cosette, I have the upmost faith in you, but you must understand, you are my only child and I worry."

"Still," she said. "He is wonderful and haven't you seen how unhappy I am without him? Doesn't that prove enough?"

"Does he treat you honorably?" Valjean asked.

"What does that mean?"

"Well, when you were meeting in the gardens without my permission—"

"I've already said, I'm sorry for that, father—"

"I know you are," Valjean said, "and I have forgiven you. But the fact remains that this young man went behind my back, which makes me question his intentions."

Cosette fell silent for a moment.

"Oh," she said. Her brow furrowed, and she was clearly thinking deeply. "Papa, I really can't explain what we were thinking, other than that we wanted to be together. I'm sure he was feeling as I was; that the moment we told someone else what we were feeling, we would have to defend it to the entire world. See, for those six weeks…" tears began to fill her eyes as she remembered that happy time, cut so awfully short by tragedy. "We were the only people in the world. We didn't need anyone else, and our only fear was something happening to break us apart. But still, it seemed like even that was impossible. I promise you he was never less than a gentleman."

Valjean opened his mouth to argue that Cosette may not know what ungentlemanly behavior even was, given her upbringing, but she interrupted him.

"I know you think that I am too innocent to understand, and maybe I am in some ways, but I know when someone is good to me. Perhaps he made mistakes, but he loved me, and I am certain of that. And if I had to do it all again, I wouldn't change anything about the way we fell in love, except the way it ended."

Valjean sighed. She was so resolute; he had never seen her so sure of anything before.

"Well," he said, trying to ignore the pain in his heart. "I suppose we're both very lucky that you've found someone so wonderful."

Cosette beamed; she wanted nothing more than for her father to approve of Marius. Valjean smiled back and drew her into an embrace, all the while feeling her slipping away. He held her a bit too tightly, a bit too long, and felt his eyes burn with the threat of tears. Cosette patted his back and pulled away, and he hid his eyes from her, smiling brightly.

"Now what is for dinner, my dear?"

**Hi guys! I would like to come back, but I need some serious ideas. I would love it if you all sent me some things you would like to read about, and I'll pick some. I can't promise a quick update (finals—college is rough!) but I have time this summer to catch up.**

**I've gotten a lot of messages from people wanting me to come back; let me tell you I was empty of ideas! But if you give me some I promise I'll try my best. **

**I still read all your reviews though- hint hint. **


	50. Show Me

Cosette anxiously finished brushing her hair, her heart pounding a little in anticipation. Memories of her wedding night were flashing through her mind, making her skin hot her cheeks flush. She'd been nervous, and it had hurt, but what she and Marius had done had transcended all the earthly discomforts and sent her into the depths of joy and trust. She'd never felt so close with anyone before.

And they were going to do it again tonight.

They'd only been married three days, but the day before she'd been too sore to try a second time. They'd agreed to wait until tonight, and she was ready. This time, since she knew what was going to happen, she wasn't nervous at all, just excited to be with her husband. Memories of Marius' lips on her neck, his hands on her skin… it all made her stomach jump with joy and she felt jolts of energy all over her body.

At last finished with her evening toilette, Cosette left her boudoir and entered their bedroom, where Marius was waiting for her on the bed.

Giggling, she ran and jumped, still excited to have such a huge bed. It was so much bigger than any bed she'd ever slept in before! Yes, it was for two of them, but there was more than enough space for two. This was probably three times the size of her bed in the rue Plumet.

Marius smiled at her, which made her stomach jump again. Wiggling closer, she snuggled up to him.

"Hello Monsieur," she said, kissing him lightly.

"How are you tonight my love?"

"Wonderful," she said. "I am glad to have you to myself, we had so many visitors all day today!"

"I know," he said, shaking his head. "But do not fret, my dear, you are all mine tonight!" He took her in his arms and held her tight as if to demonstrate, and she laughed.

Then Marius blew out the candles, and his mouth was on hers, and she understood that they were not going to talk any more tonight. Smiling, she surrendered to his kiss, remembering the slow and languid way they'd enjoyed each other the first time.

Suddenly, her husband rolled on top of her, and she felt him hard against her. Her heart thundered in excitement— she felt like she knew him in such a different way now—and she pressed against him, loving that he groaned when she did. Then, Marius was pulling up her nightgown and started to enter her.

"Wait-" Cosette said.

"Sorry?" Marius responded, out of breath from kissing and confused.

"What are you doing?" she asked, sitting up on her elbows.

"What does it seem like I'm doing?" he asked, confused again.

"I mean, just like that?" Cosette asked. "I haven't been in this bed two minutes!"

"Is there something we were supposed to do first?" Marius asked, wondering if she'd forgotten to change out of her corset or something.

"Well… I mean…" Cosette did not know how to even express what she was thinking. "Aren't you going to touch me and kiss me?"

"We were kissing," Marius said, sighing and lighting a candle before laying down next to her, resigning himself to a discussion. The golden candlelight flickered, rendering it just bright enough for them to see each other.

"Yes, but…" Cosette was getting agitated. "I'm sorry." She covered her face in her hands; in the moonlight, Marius saw her distress. "I don't know how to talk about this, you know more about these things than I do."

"Cosette," Marius said, putting his hand around her waist. She did not look at him. "Cosette, love." He kissed the side of her face. "Please look at me."

She raised her eyes and noticed how Marius was very red in the face and looked contrite and maybe even a bit ashamed.

"Oh, Marius," she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and bringing him to her, rocking back and forth. "I adore you greatly… It's just… Well, the other night we spent so long together before we… well… that I wanted so badly to continue. To be honest this time I just wasn't ready."

"You didn't… want to?" Marius asked, looking hurt.

"That's not what I meant," Cosette said, blushing. "I mean… I love you very much, and you know how much I enjoyed what we did before. It's just that… well, tonight I was looking forward to being with you because I love you and want to be close to you. I wasn't ready to leap right in to it."

Marius furrowed his brow. "Darling, forgive me. You see, I…"

He buried his face in his hands, shaking his head.

"What ever is it?" Cosette asked, eyebrows raised.

"I cannot say this to you," Marius said.

"Why not?" Cosette asked. "Is it shameful?"

"No, not exactly," her husband answered, looking up but still avoiding her eye contact. He took a breath. "All right, I will say it. You see, Cosette, I am so used to seeing… so little of you."

It was her turn to furrow her brows. Marius shook his head, sighing.

"How do I say this? Cosette, you are usually so wrapped up in your stockings and corset and petticoats and gowns, not to mention your shawl and gloves… I am so used to seeing you as the rest of the world sees you that when you are with me, in our bedroom, with your hair down in your nightgown- or less," both blushed but Marius continued, "I can't help it. I seem to lose control of a part of myself. You are so beautiful, and knowing that no one else has seen you like this, and that you love and trust me enough to let me be the man who shares these moments with you… I cannot seem to grasp my senses. Seeing the woman I have loved so long in such an intimate way… I cannot help it, I just want you, I love you. Do you… not feel the same way?"

Cosette was breathless, her heart pounding. "Marius, I do, I do feel the same way. I think it is different for women, though. It's always men courting the women, no? Well I think there's something to that… that we need to… warm up to you first."

"I thought that already happened," Marius said. "When we fell in love in the garden, and you married me. Cosette-"

"Marius, darling, yes, but I think it needs to happen each time," she explained. Her heart softened when his darling face showed clearly that he still did not seem to understand.

"Here," she said, and took his hand and wrapped it around her waist. "I love it when you hold me in your arms. It makes me feel safe and loved. Do this as often as you like."

Obediently, Marius nodded, looking desperate to please, and wrapped his other arm around her. She leaned back so they lay down on the bed on their sides, Marius holding Cosette to his chest.

She leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips, then his chin and his neck, before kissing the patch of skin in front of his ears and then taking his earlobe in her mouth. Cosette whispered very softly, very close, so he felt her warm breath on his skin: "I loved when you did that on Wednesday. Now… your turn…?"

Following in her footsteps almost exactly, Marius kissed his wife, and Cosette's eyes fluttered closed as his lips moved across the soft skin of her neck. She sighed when he kissed her ear.

Upon hearing this, Marius felt immense relief; he was glad he was back in her good graces. He continued kissing her neck, moving across her collarbones and then to the other side, even softly biting her skin.

"Yes, Marius, good," she cooed, her eyes closed. "That feels so nice…"

His pride swelled, and he continued down, moving her nightgown aside and reached for her breasts—

"Gently Marius!" she said, her eyes flying open as he crossed the line between "fondling" and "manhandling." "They are attached."

"Sorry," he said, chagrined once more.

"It's alright, we are both learning. You were so patient with me on Wednesday, you know. Part of the reason why I enjoyed it so much was you were so wonderful to me, and I was not scared at all."

"Why was I so much better Wednesday?" he asked, shaking his head.

"You were moving slower," she said simply.

"I was afraid of offending you," he said.

"No, it wasn't that," she said, shaking her head. "Yes, you were doing that, but… perhaps it was because it was the first time we experienced each other that way, but you seemed to be showing me how much you loved me, physically."

"I felt that too," he said. "I love you, your soul and your body."

Cosette smiled. "Show me."

Smiling back, Marius leaned down once more to kiss his wife.

* * *

**Reviews?**

**Also, please check out my other fic, "Aphrodite Urania," about Marius and Cosette's daughter. **

**Glad to be back!**


	51. The Second Pontmercy Wedding Night

When Marius closed the door to the bedroom, he let out an audible sigh of exhaustion.

"Am I ever relieved to be done with that," he said to his wife.

"I think it was a beautiful wedding," Cosette said, turning so Marius could begin to undo the buttons on her formal gown. "But yes, I am glad to be finished with all the planning."

"These last few days have been ridiculous," Marius mused, remembering the decorators roaming the house, the florist sticking flowers in any nook or cranny, and the cook taking over the kitchen for two days straight making the food.

Once Cosette was unbuttoned, she stepped out of her gown and hung it up, staying her petticoats and undergarments.

"Marie and Jacques looked so in love today," she said, smiling. "I know we made the right choice."

Marius had to admit that his wife was right. Marie had been radiant all day, her smile bright and infectious as she danced with her new husband. As for Jacques, he never took his eyes off his new bride, one of his hands always clasped in hers.

"They really did look happy, didn't they?" Marius murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed and removing his boots.

Cosette crawled up behind him and rested her cheek on her husband's back. "Seeing them together today made me so glad that Marie is with someone who loves her. I remember how happy I was at our wedding, but only because I was overjoyed to spend my life with you."

Marius smiled and turned to kiss Cosette. He remembered the day they married, and how Cosette's hand shook in his own at the altar. She'd beamed beneath her veil, but she had been nervous nonetheless. This afternoon, Marie had been trembling as he walked her down the aisle. He'd been tempted to take her out of the church and back home, but the look of joy on her face stopped him. It was normal to be frightened, a wedding was a huge event. But Cosette was right—Marie and Jacques loved each other.

"Do you think she's alright?" Marius asked nervously.

"How do you mean?" Cosette asked.

"I mean tonight," Marius said, not really wanting to think about it but worried for his daughter. "You spoke to her last night, correct? I'm sure she does not know much…."

"Oh don't worry love," Cosette said, patting her husband's shoulder. "She seemed nervous for the wedding and was naturally apprehensive about the notion of 'forever,' but I don't think she was at all concerned about tonight. Besides, her best friend is married. I'm sure Louise did not say much, but Marie knows it's alright."

"Still," Marius said.

"Dear, they love each other. I know I was nervous because I did not know what was going to happen, but I was raised in a convent without a mother. It's different for Marie. But I know that I was more than eager to spend all that time alone with you. You needn't worry about her, I'm sure she's not concerned at all at this moment."

Marius grimaced. Marie and Jacques had left the party two hours earlier. They were installed in a small, pretty apartment near the Tuileries. Neither the Pontmercy residence, filled still with five other children, nor the Fabre residence, which was small, was optimal for the young couple. This new home was close by and ideal for a young couple starting out.

"You are right, love," Marius said. "I don't know where I would be if I didn't have you to calm me down for all these years."

"We're a good match," she said simply and kissed his cheek. "This is a new stage isn't it? Our first child has left the nest."

Marius nodded quietly. For a moment they both sat in silence on their eldest daughter's wedding night. The house was quiet; the other children had retired to bed once the party was over, completely exhausted. Most of the cleanup was being saved for the next day, and the couple had nothing to do but think.

Both of them sat together comfortably and remembered their own story, back when there were no children and it was just the two of them. The nights before they were married, anxiously trying to fall asleep so morning could come and they would see each other again. Then their wedding, filled with laughter and nerves and happiness, their timid and loving wedding night. He remembered how reserved he and Cosette had been, afraid to test their new freedom as if someone was going to take it away.

He looked behind him and saw her beautiful blue eyes, unchanged through the years, though the skin surrounding them was looser. Pleasant lines were gradually being etched into her face, giving her the kind, motherly appearance of someone who is always about to smile. Those same eyes hid beneath their lashes in the garden of the rue Plumet, nervous but exhilarated. They'd glowed with happiness when he lifted her veil and kissed her for the first time as her husband, and stared up at him with trust and passion when she lay on the bed beneath him later that night.

Marius' feelings from twenty-one years before surged within him, as strong as the first time he'd kissed his wife. Only now they were backed with a deluge of memories of their life together, their children, their tears and their ecstasy.

"Cosette," Marius groaned, leaning toward his wife and meeting his mouth with hers hungrily. He moaned against her lips, opening them with his own until their tongues touched, making love.

Desperately, he began to undo the laces on the back of her corset, his progress faster than it once was but still too slow. Cosette took the combs from her hair and let her tresses fall around her waist for Marius to run his hands through, while he undid the restrictive boning and the ties on her petticoats and she lifted her chemise over her head.

Finally, she kicked herself free of her petticoats. Marius' fingers, quick and practiced, unhooked her garters and unrolled her stockings while she removed his cravat and began work on his buttons. His pants followed her stockings, then his shoes and socks, followed by their last undergarments.

At last they were naked together, trembling with desire and passion akin to their wedding night, as if they had not made love more than a thousand times before. Marius stroked her breasts, larger than they were back then after five pregnancies and six children, and kissed his way down her soft stomach and her full thighs, before his kisses roamed lower and he made her gasp and clutch his dark hair, now streaked with silver. This was something so intimate that Cosette was too bashful to let Marius do to her in the beginning of their marriage, despite his desire to please her above all else. However, after Marie was born it seemed all their differences fell away and that was when they truly became one. Once Cosette had carried and given birth to his child, she saw the miracles her body was capable of and no longer felt any shame for any part of herself. Now she felt desire as acute as need, mixed with immense trust and love as his fingers stroked inside of her, his mouth against her most intimate place.

She felt herself reach her peak, one hand in her husband's hair, another clutching the pillow above her head, her body awash with pleasure as Marius worked her body with care and expertise.

"I need you inside of me," she whispered the moment she was finished, and he rose up until he was on top of her, entering her without hesitation. Cosette thought back to his gentle, nervous movements on their wedding night, both aching with desire but neither letting the other know exactly how wild they were driven, for fear of seeming uncultured or wrong. His sweetness and virginity made her fall more deeply in love with him that night, when she was scared out of her wits and unprepared for the depth of desire she felt for him. His uncultured excitement from back then contrasted with the practiced, powerful man who made love to her now, thrusting into her with strength and self-discipline.

He whispered passionate words in her ear expressing exactly how much he wanted her, how he loved her, what her body did to him. These were words she would have been appalled to hear him say twenty years ago; they were too raw, too real. Now she felt her second peak approaching as Marius sped up, gasping how good it felt to be inside of her.

She cried out as the pleasure ripped through her and she dug her nails into his shoulders, her head thrown back against the pillows. She felt her husband entering her time after time, until his fingers gripped her hair and his jaw tightened, the slight pain in her scalp only adding to the passion and fury of the moment, everything red and sweat and fire. She felt herself fill with heat, then Marius collapsed beside her, out of breath, his skin flushed.

They lay together for several minutes, catching their breath, with their legs and arms entwined. Neither needed to speak about their lovemaking; years of practice meant they were completely comfortable without comment afterward.

Finally, Marius rolled onto his back and put his arms behind his head and Cosette pulled the blankets over herself, growing cold as the afterglow left her body.

"My love," Cosette crooned, and Marius turned to smile at her, his eyes sleepy and dazed with the pleasure they had both experienced.

"Think of it," she continued. "We've built a whole life on a few weeks in that garden. What a gamble."

He idly stroked her shoulder and arm, leaning forward to kiss her cheek, her neck, her ear.

She felt all of her joints weakly connected, as if her limbs had turned to butter. The look on her husband's face told her he was experiencing the same feeling.

"And our daughter just took the same gamble tonight," he remarked, one hand winding its way through Cosette's hair. "Pray to God they have the same blessing."

Cosette yawned, feeling the events of the day catch up with her and fatigue work its way through her body, making her eyes drift close. "Maybe in twenty years they will be praying the same thing."

Marius closed his eyes, smiling. "Maybe."

**I thought this was more appropriate here since it was M/C and people have been requesting more "M" materials. Please let me know if you liked it, and if you have any more suggestions for ideas. **

**I am thinking of writing a story about Jean Pontmercy, years after Marie's story takes place. What do you think?**

**Reviews PLEASE!**


	52. Deep Thoughts

**January, 1834**

Cosette sat in front of the fire in her nightgown. Her feet were swathed in the thick socks Toussaint had knitted her last winter, but she could not remember ever being so cold. Though her nightdress was thick and warm, it was not enough, and her coats were all too structured to sleep in.

The bedroom door opened, and she looked up from her huddled place.

"Marius," she announced. "Are you cold? I'm so cold!"

He looked at her and nodded, but was still dressed in his day clothes: his winter suit, a wool shirt and undershirt, and a sweater and thick socks.

"It's this big house. It never gets warm enough," he remarked. He sat on the bench on the end of their bed and unlaced his boots. "I remember as a child, always being cold here. My grandfather would tease me, and offer to have me live in a little country house, but I am positive it would be warmer."

"Smaller at least. Less cold places," Cosette remarked. "Either way, I can't remember it getting this cold ever before. Not in the past several years, at least."

Marius disappeared into his closet and came back into the room a moment later with one of his thick sweaters and handed it to her.

"You should have something like this. You only wear shawls. Those can't keep you warm enough; not in front at least."

"Thank you, Marius," she said. She slipped her hands through the sleeves and pulled the thick wool garment over her head. It hung past her waist and the sleeves past her hands. Ordinarily she would have rolled the sleeves up, but her fingers were too cold so she left them covered. "I would, but can you imagine how this would look over a dress?"

He shook his head. "As long as you're warm. Get in bed and bundle up."

"It's too cold without you," she informed him. "That's why I've been waiting. Where did you go after dinner? Did you have a nice walk?"

"Cosette, it was wonderful. I swear, walking does more for my brain than anything else… I feel so revitalized after I've taken a stroll through this city. Paris is the most amazing city in the world, I won't hear a word otherwise." He hung up his trousers and suit jacket, and unbuttoned his shirt. He opened the wardrobe and located a nightshirt.

Cosette, still curled up by the fire, giggled. "Marius, have you been to another city?"

"Plenty, in France. They're dreadful."

"I mean a city that could possibly rival Paris."

"There aren't any," he said with a grin. He splashed some water on his face and neck, and then poured himself a glass of water. "Come. Bedtime."

She let him pull her to her feet, and then snuggled in bed. She shivered; the bedclothes were cold. Nicolette had come by an hour before with a warming pan, but most of it's effects had already worn off. Cosette had wanted to retire early, but did not like to without Marius. She hadn't been able to go to bed.

He blew out the candles and pulled her close to him, and she felt him press his face against her hair. He kissed her head, and held himself against her.

"What do you think about, when you're walking?" she wondered.

Marius sighed. She waited patiently. Marius had always been one to desire some time alone, and she did not resent it. He needed at least an hour out a day to think; he was solitary that way and she knew that forcing her presence on him would only make him unhappy. She hadn't known this initially, and used to become very upset when he would go out without her.

"Are you always alone?" she'd asked in the early months of their marriage.

"Why—yes," Marius had promised. "Cosette, do you think I am seeing someone else? That I could possibly love another? Please, _cherie_, no—"

"It's not only that," Cosette had said. "Though what else would I think? You go out at night and don't ask me along… Well, if you were seeing friends, maybe I could understand. But you'd really rather be off by yourself, thinking, alone, than home with me? Whyever did you marry me then?"

She'd cried and let Marius hold her and promise her otherwise, and it took many confrontations like that one before he came up with a way of explaining it to her.

"Cosette, my love, I have always been a person who is content in his own company. I need to think or else I would go mad; I often think I _am_ mad. But believe me when I say none of this solitary walking, none of these thoughts I am thinking, would mean a thing without you to come home to. If I didn't have you, I would be wandering and lonely. But I _do_ have you, and that fact gives meaning to everything else. Please, Cosette, do you understand?"

She'd begun to, and as their first year of marriage was drawing to a close, she understood her husband more and more. He needed his time to recuperate after a day talking to people and socializing; he was a lone man and understood his life better when he could think about it without others around. Some people did not like to look too closely at their lives, and always needed others around to prevent them from doing so. Her husband was not one of those people. She alone knew that he was a poet, and that he could not produce his words without his time distilling all the fuss in his brain.

"Did you think some good thoughts tonight?" she asked as she kissed him under his jaw.

"I did," he said finally. "I thought about you. I thought about something else, too, love, about us and what's coming next. Do you know why anyone talks, or writes, or creates anything?"

"Why?"

"Well, it's to bring something meaningful into life, isn't it? To make themselves immortal in some way, or to somehow validate their existence and make it more valuable than another?"

Cosette slowly nodded. "I suppose so. Or just to make something beautiful."

"Well, yes," Marius said with agitation. "But that's just it. Animals cannot make anything beautiful, or if they do they don't do it for _leisure,_ they do it by accident. We make things beautiful purely because we can. We do it to prove that we are more masterful, more brilliant than any other species."

"You're right," she said. Sometimes her husband could go off on tangents like these, and that was precisely why she knew he needed his time alone to think.

"But," he said importantly, "but. We search so long and hard for the _meaning _of our life that we forget that the primary goal of any species is to stay alive. Humans are meant to live and pass on their genes, and create and invent so that their children can live longer, and produce more children… it is simple. It is not about art. Art is frivolity, beautiful and perfect, but it is not necessary. The meaning of life will not be found through art, but through perfect, meaningful existence."

Cosette was confused. "How can existence be meaningful if we do not _know_ the meaning of it?"

"Sorry, sorry, that was a poor choice of words. What I mean is that life, and it's meaning are found at home. It is found in living a life to promote healthy children and to make their lives long and prosperous, so they can pass more life on. Does that make sense?"

"Why, yes, that does, Marius."

"It is found in a solid and honorable homelife, my love. I was thinking about that while I walked," he said.

Marius' hands, which had grown quite cold while he was walking, had finally warmed up from his time in bed. Slowly, he lifted Cosette's nightgown and sweater up until it was bunched under her breasts.

He leaned down and kissed her belly, just under her navel.

"It is here, my love. Right here."

She smiled and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair.

"Our baby is going to love you," she mused. "Just as I do."

He rose back up and kissed her resolutely on the mouth. "I already love them. He's ours. Or she. Ours."

His hand spread wide across her stomach, still flat with only six weeks of pregnancy.

"You need to write again, my love," Cosette remarked as she pulled away from Marius' kiss.

"I don't know," he confessed. "I'm a lawyer now."

"You are Marius," she said. "You are not a lawyer, or a writer, or any thing. You are Marius Pontmercy, who practices law, and writes, and lives in the Marais and has a beautiful wife who he adores."

"He does," Marius said, grinning. "And she is beautiful."

"And he knows how much his wife loves his poetry," Cosette whispered, kissing Marius' neck. "Marius Pontmercy walks through Paris late nights and then comes home and says beautiful things to his wife, who listens and sometimes does not understand all that he is saying but loves when he talks like that to her. And then, Marius makes love to his wife, and then they sleep. Doesn't that sound like a nice life?"

"You are enchanting. Come here."

"I'm as close as I can get."

"That's hardly true."

Marius leaned down and kissed Cosette deeply, thinking how maybe there wasn't anything more than that.

* * *

**I'd love some suggestions for future chapters- I do take them and use them!**


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